Cry To Me
by PlatinumAndPercocet
Summary: 'You don't ever have to walk alone, oh you see, oh come on, take my hand and baby won't you walk with me' Even the most carefully constructed walls have to come down at some point, and though we can't choose when, we can choose who is with us when they crumble.
1. Cry To Me

**What I own: Two hundred DVDs. A Kindle. A LOT of shoes that are inappropriate for anywhere other than a night club.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Obviously. I just like to play with the characters. I'm making nothing from this work, and promise to return the characters (Mostly) unharmed when they are done. **

**Rated M for sexual situations and motherfucking language. No minors. If you can't vote or buy cigarettes, you don't need to be reading my words. **

**Author's Note: This is my second foray into the Rookie Blue fandom, though I have been reading for ages. I can't really explain where this came from. The flashbacks, in italics, were written by me and published anonymously elsewhere, for an entirely different fandom, but for some reason, kept coming back to me with these two. I finally got myself together and sent this to my beloved beta! She fixes my insanely long love for run on sentences and catches my shifting tense that shifts like a fucking shifty thing. I adore her. And she left y'all a note! What?! I know this is uber confusing right now, but it will be explained, eventually. This is a glimpse into the future, as it were, and future chapters will hopefully answer all your questions… unless more come up which is a possibility. In any case, reviews are welcome with open arms and make me grin like a school girl. They also, incidentally, make me write faster, so there is that. In any case, I hope you enjoy. **

**BETA NOTE: Hi guys! I'm gonna assume you already read the chapter. Right? Right! So this is what I'm here to do. You see, my girl already did a bang up job with this chapter. It's true Babycakes. Don't even try to deny it. You hear me? Good. Now, back to you guys. See, I read this before I got my hands on it. Which is why there's a reposting. I just made our little author make a few changes that I saw. But like you guys, I love her anyway. So if you want, reread the chapter. Not too many changes were made. Unless Babycakes decided to change things after I got my hands on it. For you new readers, you'll be seeing me more in the near future. Like the next few chapters….. *Janeycakes***

I shouldn't be here. I should be anywhere BUT here and yet? Here I am.

The air is stifling, hot and so thick with humidity that you could cut it with a knife. It made my skin itch, shivers running up my spine despite the oppressive heat. Even the night itself seemed to be conceding to the weather. There were no cars, no chirping animals, no yelling children, just the occasional buzz of an insect, though even that was seldom.

The day had been a long one, to say the least, and the images, red and violent and so very final still,flashed behind my lids when I closed my eyes. The wine hadn't helped, although I knew it wouldn't. It never did. At most, it just encouraged bad decisions.

My shirt stuck to my back and I wished, not for the first time, that I had worn shorts instead of jeans when I left my house.

I stared at the door from my position on the sidewalk for a few minutes, as though willing it to give me an answer. Something about why I had ended up here. When it became clear that the blue wood wasn't going to actually give me an answer, I almost physically felt my resolve crumble and hopped up the whitewashed stairs of the small bungalow.

I could just barely hear the music through the door, the tune teasing my ears and bringing a small smile to my lips. It was a bit of a surprise, not exactly what I had known or come to expect from my swarthy partner, but it somehow suited him.

The knock was louder than I anticipated, more to be heard over the music than anything, and I flinched, despite knowing exactly where the sound was coming from. If anyone had asked though, I would have denied it until I was blue in the face. I had been on the job far too long for that, seen more in my twenty-eight years than most people had in a lifetime, both on the clock and off. I also pretended that it didn't bother me. I had to, I didn't have a choice. You either picked up the pieces and moved on or you drowned, and that was not how I would be going out.

The morbid thought brought all of the images flashing back, and I closed my eyes against the onslaught of images that flashed through my mind, to no avail. They came rushing back, rapid fire and flickering, like a piece of film that had aged and started to crack.

_I should have seen the signs. It's what I do. It's who I am. I see things that others don't. And when it is someone else, when I can be outside of the situation? I see everything. I don't miss a trick. I can't because if I do, there could be maybe a moment between me and a bullet. _

_But when it's you, when you are the face that is usually on the other side of the glass? Everything is different. No matter how strong you think you are, how many layers of Kevlar and ill-fitting polyester you have, the fact that there is a gun strapped to one hip, cuffs on the other. No matter what that badge pinned to your shirt says… all of that is just for show. It can't protect you when you don't have it on. _

_And so I sat._

_The flashing blue lights from the cruiser cast cold shadows across the darkened walls, blinding me with their insistence and I could see, even in silhouette, the all too familiar form of my partner heading up the path. I should answer the door, it was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen steps from my current place on the kitchen floor but I just… couldn't. I couldn't face him, not now, not like this. _

_And so I sat._

_No. My face was tight from dried tears, and I could feel the swelling already, my cheek was still hot from the sting and there was no way I could hide that. Not with the sharp pain with every breath, the squeak that threatened to catch in my throat as I moved, just trying to catch my breath. My bare feet stung, a single misstep, and a hundred sharp edged shards, the bright red looked nearly black in the dark, grisly spatters against the white tile._

_And so I sat._

_I wasn't supposed to be so weak, I couldn't be. There was nothing I could say that could make this change. I had searched for every word in the book, some way to explain this, just to myself but I couldn't. I couldn't speak the words, I couldn't find the strength. _

_And so I sat._

_The knock was authoritative and insistent, his voice filled with worry. It was THAT tone though. That one that he used around victims. The ones who couldn't fight back. The ones who lay crumpled and incomplete. The ones that couldn't speak, not anymore. I couldn't answer, I couldn't reply because that would be confirmation. It would be admitting that weak and those were words I could never speak._

_And so I sat._

_I ignored the pain, the sharp, aching reality that I knew wouldn't go. I ignored the tears that fell, once again, down my cheeks. I ignored the flashes of memories, the carousel of moments, that golden ring that slipped through my grasp time after time. I ignored the man that stood just a few steps away, offering help I wasn't able to take, not yet. It wasn't time yet._

"McNally?" His voice was low laced with… something. Concern? Fear? Surprise? All of the above? I couldn't tell, not entirely, not yet. "Come on in." I didn't need to say anything, not to him. He knew me better than anyone, and he had been there today, seen the same things. The violence. The senseless ending. The shattered lives. He knew. He wouldn't push, not about this.

Slipping past him, my skin prickled instantly, the air icy cold on my arms, a welcome change from the suffocating heat. I sang softly under my breath, the words as familiar as an old friend and more comforting.

The house was dark, save for a dim light from the kitchen, though he didn't look like he had been sleeping. The beer bottle placed just so on a coaster that sat in the corner of the coffee table was a give-away that I wasn't the only one having a rough night.

I glanced back up at him with a small smile as he stood against the doorframe, arms crossed, and my brow arched in an almost playful accusation.

"It was a long day McNally, you know that as well as anyone." Sam Swarek was not a man of many words, but those he did use were well chosen and surprisingly perfect with the barest hint of a smile played on his lips. The music slowed and then stopped, and I shot the iPod that sat docked in the ridiculous sound system a pointed glare.

Returning my attention to my partner, I rolled my eyes and grabbed the bottle from its perch. After raising it to my lips and draining it of its contents in a few moments, earned a low chuckle from him as I replaced it carefully on the coaster as the opening notes of the next song drifted to my ears.

"Van Morrison to Solomon Burke. I'm impressed Swarek." And I was, truly, and happily so.

"You know I live to impress you McNally." His voice was dry with just a touch of humor that I had come to expect from him, though there was more than a hint of concern laced through them. "Did you come over at one AM to listen to music and drink my beer?"

"Nope." I shook my head with my answer, eyes closing, hips moving to the familiar beat, "Although it is a bonus."

"Andy. Are you-"

"Dance with me." I cut him off, not ready or willing to talk about it, not yet, but met his gaze. "Please?"


	2. I Finally Had Enough

**What I own: A candle that smells like sugar, a pair of qunmetal sequin Chucks, 70+ twitter accounts and an insane nail polish collection that I never use.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Duh. It isn't mine folks, and I am making no money off this work of fiction. If I was, I wouldn't be living in a crappy apartment in the deep south. I just like to play with them sometimes. I promise that I will return them more or less intact. Maybe a bit dirtier. **

**Author's Note: WOW. I'm kind of astounded by the support for the last chapter, holy crow. All y'all are amazing, legit. Like, I giggled and I don't giggle. EVER. Things are probably going to still be a little confusing right now, but this is the actual beginning of the story and more will be explained as we get further along. The chapters, to begin with, are going to be on the short side because reasons but will get longer as we go along. Once again, flashbacks are in italics. This isn't a happy story, not yet but it will be, I promise, we just need to wade through some muck and grime to get there. Updated with beta corrections from my Janeycakes. She fixes my run ons and my tense which shifts like a fucking shifty thing. And she leaves y'all notes cause she is cool like that. Reviews make me smile like a kid in a candy store, and will be rewarded with both sneak peeks of future chapters and copious praise and love…. Oh and they make me write faster too, so there is that. Okay, I think that is enough of my epic babble for the time being. Questions? Comments? Concerns? A good recipe for cherry chip cake? Feel free to PM or hit me up on twitter and we can talk it out. **

**BETA NOTE: Again! Hi guys! Yep. I told you I'd be back to see you. You enjoy the first chapter all over again? Or did you enjoy it for the first time? Regardless, you enjoyed it. Because look! Here you are. Again, Babycakes is giving me the pleasure of going through and correcting her little mistakes here and there. There's no telling her to fix her characters. I know where their minds are, and how they speak. So as an author and a beta, we're just along for the ride. Now, get comfortable and settle in to read the next chapter. *Janeycakes***

This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, it never was. Slivers of shattered glass glinting in the low overhead light, scattered drops of crimson splashed across the pale tiled floor, the sickly sweet smell of salt and rust hanging in the air. Muffled, sniffly sobs from the child in my arms who just couldn't understand. The whispered reassurances that were totally false, gentle strokes to her back, hiccupping between sobs. She couldn't have been more than three years old, the little angel, all watery big blue eyes and disheveled blonde curls. She was sobbing in her room when we had arrived, Swarek first of course, the lock broken, and the alarm blaring, quickly silenced by a call to the company. My vest and sleeve were wet with tears and snot, the cotton of my shirt grasped tightly in her hands. "Mama" gasped between hiccoughing sobs, a plea for the only comfort that she may have ever known and, after tonight, never would again.

I didn't know how to even begin to explain what had happened to her mom. Even if I did, I didn't know if I could. Yes, Claire had left when I was twelve, but she wasn't… she chose to go, she made that conscious decision, and she showed back up, breezed in like it was nothing. This little girl… so young, and she would never see her mother again. My heart broke at the simple thought of it and I shook my head whispering reassuring nonsense as I peeked around the doorframe into the kitchen, careful to keep my temporary charge's eyes away from the carnage that lay beyond. I kept her in my arms, away from the kitchen. She didn't need to see this, not now and not ever. I met Swarek's gaze for just a moment and gave an almost imperceptible shudder before turning away.

The house, large and immaculately decorated, spoke subtly of wealth, held the promise of what was obviously a very good life. This wasn't what I would have expected to find walking in, not here. But looks, as I knew so well, could be more than deceiving. From the outside, everything looked perfect: Perfectly manicured lawns, three car garage, pristine his and hers Lexuses in the driveway, silver shining in the moonlight. The blue lights from the cruiser seeming almost obscene as they lit up the quiet cul-de-sac.

Once inside though, the story changed. Not immediately, no, but slowly, almost insidiously. You'd think that after almost four years of doing this job I would be used to it, over the shock… but no. The moment you get to that point, to where it doesn't affect you anymore, to where you can look at the horrors that people can inflict on each other and not be bothered in the slightest? That is the day you find another job.

The little girl's cries they broke me and I had to fight the tears that stung at my eyes. There was no reason this scene should be any different than all the others, it was something that we had seen time and time again but this… the level of brutality that had been used, the anger and hatred, the hurt and what I was sure was a plea for forgiveness… it was unfathomable to me even though it was a scene that I knew all too well and that terrified me.

The hours ticked by simultaneously at lightning speed and slower than I could imagine. The little girl in my arms had finally fallen asleep, exhausted herself into a fitful slumber, soft breaths coming in puffs against my neck. Handing her over to children's services was almost physically painful, the aide worker having to literally pry her tiny fingers from my vest.

When we were finally, finally finished and dismissed, I walked out immediately, my stomach rolled violently as I stepped out in to the cold night. The neighborhood was still lit up, blue lights and headlights casting an otherworldly glow in the usual velvet darkness, blotting out the usual glow of the moon. I barely made it to off the porch before I fell to my knees, retching and gagging as my stomach revolted and emptied its meager contents into the bushes, fighting the memories that came rushing back.

_It didn't start right away, it never did. It probably would have been easier if it had. It was creeping, a slow change that overtook him. It was insidious, and I didn't see it until it was too late. Because I didn't want to. I couldn't. Little things that wouldn't have bothered him just a few months ago were now grating on his nerves: A slightly over cooked roast for supper. Class running late. He would snap at me and storm off in a huff and slam the door. That was all it was, at first but over time, it worsened. Mandatory overtime at work. Going out for a drink after a long shift. A dropped glass… there was no telling what would set him off. The first time he hit me I was shocked stupid. I couldn't process it, didn't know what had just happened. One moment things were fine and the next, I was on my ass on the kitchen floor, my cheek throbbing. The apologies came quickly and seemed heartfelt, words that I had longed to hear. _

'_Andy, I'm so sorry.' _

'_I love you.'_

'_It won't happen again.'_

'_I don't know what came over me.'_

_I should have known then, in that first moment that he was lost. He wasn't the man I had fallen in love with, not anymore, but I couldn't see it, not then. I believed the pretty, violent lies because I wanted to. Not for almost a year. I got good at hiding it, very good. Cover-up, a deft hand with a make-up brush, long sleeves and a bright smile were enough to fool most people, if they didn't look too hard. Sam Swarek, as I well knew, was not most people. I knew I wasn't fooling him, not for a second but he never pushed, not once, even though I knew he knew. How could he not? He was my partner, I trusted him, quite literally, with my life on a daily basis. I couldn't tell him, I couldn't tell anyone, it was so cliché, I could almost hear the voices, the whispers, and the pitying looks. It was too much and so I stayed. _

_Time after time, he promised that he didn't mean it, he didn't know what he was doing, what happened. It was the alcohol. A bad day at work. He hasn't been sleeping. The excuses piled up and I believed them, each and every time because it was easier. I could hide the bruises, play it off as just being clumsy if anyone asked. It was easier to lie than admit the truth. _

The gentle hand on my back and proffered stick of gum pulled me out of my memories and I gave Swarek and half-hearted smile in thanks as I popped the gum and headed silently back to the cruiser. My head was spinning and I moved on auto pilot, sliding into the vehicle and buckling up as Sam maneuvered us through the dark streets back towards the barn.

The quiet would have been uncomfortable in any other situation. With anyone else I would have filled the time with inane chatter, something, anything to fill the empty minutes but that wasn't necessary with Swarek, we knew each other to well for that. I kept my gaze fifed out my window, my fingers compulsively twisting the rings that sat on my left hand. Round and round, over and over until the car stopped.

"I'm leaving him." The words were hollow, little more than a whisper in the quiet car, though they seemed to echo like a gunshot. I kept my eyes out the window, because I knew if I looked at Swarek, I would fall to pieces and I couldn't, not now. Not here. Not yet.

"What do you need?" The question was simple, though his voice had lost his usual sarcastic tone and was almost surprisingly gentle coming from my often gruff partner, his hand reassuringly resting on my arm.

'I… don't know.' And I didn't, not even a little bit, not yet, but I knew I would know, and it would be soon.


	3. A Glass Of Wine Alone

**What I own: A purple lamp, a converse shaped piggy bank covered in sugar skulls and a red blender.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Still. Hasn't changed. I'm not making a penny off this little work of fiction, I just like to play with them.**

**Author's Note: Lawd. Y'all are all kinds of motivational! Fair warning, this chapter isn't pretty and I may or may not have cried while writing it. Domestic violence is mentioned and mildly described, as is the death of a child. I can't do light y'all, no matter how hard I try. HOWEVER, things should be at least… less heavy from here on out. This still isn't beta'd, and I am pretty sure if I post anymore before my beloved beta reads them, she is going to kill me dead. Poof. No more Helen. That is a big lie, Janeycakes made this all kinds of pretty AND didn't kill me. YAY! I took some liberties with the time frame, because I can, and because I wanted to get into the meat of the story. Y'all will recognize half of this chapter, give or take. As always, reviews are rewarded with sneak peaks of upcoming chapter as well as copious praise. Questions, comments and recipe ideas are more than welcome via PM or Twitter, I LOVE talking to y'all, for real.**

**BETA NOTE: Don't let her lie to you. I don't care that she's posting this before I get a chance to read them. She's my Babycakes. She'll do what she wants. I've grown used to this thought. Now, I can honestly say I'm as caught up as you guys with this story. Like I said in the last beta note, I can help with the grammar and the spelling, but there is no messing with the minds of McNally and Swarek. It's just never going to happen. Personally, I like the way they are. I can't screw with them too much as a beta. Anyway, enough of my rambling. Just sit down and enjoy the chapter.**

Six months. Twenty-four weeks. One hundred and eighty days. Little more than a blink in the grand scheme of things, but the changes that had happened were immeasurable.

_The walk home had been both quiet and cold. I had begged off several invites to The Penny and turned down the offer of a ride home from Sam, citing the need for air. It wasn't a lie, not really. I honestly did need to breathe. My walk home was often used for exactly that purpose, clearing my head and compartmentalizing for the rest of the evening. That night though, my mind spun with an almost painful awareness, the blinding clarity of what I was about to do. I tried tricking myself into believing that I wasn't scared but I had never been a good liar, not outright. Although scared wasn't the word for it. I was terrified, both of how I would tell him and of what Preston's reaction would be. My gun was left securely in Sam's truck, simply because I was afraid of what could happen if I had it accessible. He didn't ask, and I didn't volunteer any answers, he just simply tucked it his pocket with a promise to return it tomorrow before shift. I could see the worry written on his face as I turned to head home, though he tried to hide it. It wouldn't have been apparent to anyone else though, which was oddly comforting._

_The streets were silent and cold, stars shining brightly through the clear sky and I kept my hands shoved in my pockets to ward off the chill, though the wind stung my nose and cheeks. The house looked warm and inviting as I headed up the stairs, punching in the key code quickly and carefully shutting the door behind me, making as little noise as possible. I kept my boots on, jacket buttoned as I headed into the living room._

_The blue glow from the TV reflected through the room, some infomercial trying to sell a blender that also fried eggs and did calculus homework or something. Preston was dozing on the couch, an empty rocks glass sitting on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table. He looked so peaceful in the moment, so much like the man I had fallen in love with that I nearly changed my mind because maybe… no. He wasn't the same, not any more. He wasn't the same man I had married five years ago and never would be again._

"_Preston?" My voice was quiet and I watched as he blinked his eyes open and smiled sleepily up at me, my stomach tightening._

"_Andrea. Good shift?" His voice was heavy with sleep and I nodded simply, in lieu of an answer, my fingers twirling the rings on my finger again, faster this time, as I tried to find my voice. I had gone over the words in my head so many times I had lost count as I walked home, running the scenarios, imagining the responses, how this could work._

"_I'm leaving." The words tumbled from my lips before I could even think about it, and I kept my gaze fixed on my husband as he sat up, the haze of sleep quickly giving way to a stunning and fearful clarity._

"_Leaving what, Andrea?" His voice was calm, eerily so as he pushed himself up off the couch, his cold gaze leveled at me._

_Swallowing thickly again, I stood up straight, chin tilted slightly upwards as I forced myself to breathe, unwilling to back down, despite the fear that ran through me, and the slight tremor in my voice._

"_I want a divorce, Preston. I can't- I can't do this anymore." My eyes dropped to my clasped hands as my voice wavered, unable to look up as his feet came into view. His hand reached out in a flash and grasped my jaw, forcing my head up to meet his cold eyes._

"_Not going to happen Andrea." The words were cold and final, as though there was no room to argue, not that I could if I had wanted to. His strong fingers were digging into the tender flesh as I fought against the tears that pricked at my eyes. _

"_Please, Preston just l-" I didn't finish the words before I was on the floor, sliding across the polished hardwood and slamming to a stop against the coffee table, my head hitting it with a sickening thump. The last thing I remembered was a familiar voice as the door opened just before I lost consciousness._

It had been Sam that came in, at least that's what I was told. I still wasn't sure of all of the details, courtesy of the concussion, but from what I had been able to piece together, that was probably for the better. Sam and Oliver were both there when I came to on a very familiar couch, towing the party line. Preston was in jail, and agreed to a quick divorce the next day.

Six months was quick, or so they said. We managed without lawyers, Preston being shockingly amenable to everything that was proposed. Then again, I wanted nothing, not really, except for what was mine before the marriage which, admittedly, wasn't much.

I still didn't know what Oliver and Sam had said to him that day, but a night in jail seemed to have changed things drastically, as did the threat of pending charges. That didn't stop me from freezing up whenever I saw him though, and I did everything in my power to assure that he couldn't find me outside of work.

It had been a slow progression at first, getting used to being alone again, to not having to answer to anyone, being able to make small decisions without fear of what anyone would think. It was almost a month after moving into my own town house that I stopped waking at every bump in the night, automatically reaching for the drawer in the nightstand that held my personal weapon. The nightmares though, they still weren't gone and I would wake up screaming every few weeks. After the first one, I had crouched in the corner of my bedroom, phone clenched in trembling hands and called Sam. I didn't remember the details, I never do, and I knew that I had woke him up from some much needed sleep, but he sat with me, told me some inane story about fixing his hot water heater until my breathing evened out and my eyelids started to droop.

He had become even more of a rock for me than he was before, and between him, Oliver and my fellow rookies, I was rarely alone unless I wanted to be which, for those first few weeks, was seldom. I eventually settled into a comfortable rhythm, an ease with both myself and my surroundings, that surprised me. I felt lighter, as though some burden had been lifted from my shoulders despite a small part of me waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew that it wouldn't be over until I had the final papers in my hand, and I longed for that day, though it would come sooner than I thought.

Swarek and I had returned from a scene, the sight behind the flimsy door almost identical to the one from six months ago with one glaring, haunting admission. There was no crying child. There should have been though, the toys and laundry scattered throughout the small, slightly run down home indicated that it was more than just the couple splayed out in the kitchen that lived here. We cleared the house slowly, carefully, though it was obvious what had happened.

I found her. Her door was at the end of a short hall, 'Morgan' spelled out in arched pink letters against the shiny white paint. I knew, somehow as my hand turned the knob that I didn't want to go in. The dread settled over me like a wool blanket on a hot summer day, oppressive and all encompassing.

The room was dark, save for the stars glowing dimly on the ceiling, loosely arranged in haphazard attempts at the constellations, not unlike the ones that had decorated my own bedroom when I was a child. She looked so peaceful as my flashlight caught her in its overly harsh light. Eyes that I knew were large and blue and full of innocence that had seen things far beyond her years were closed, golden curls splayed across a little pink pillow, a well-loved bear clutched in a tiny hand, ballerinas frolicking on tiny cotton pajamas. But she was still, too still, there was no color in her small cheeks. A quick touch of a gloved hand revealed cool skin and not even a faint pulse.

"I'm so sorry." The words were whispered into the silence and I brushed a hand over her cheek, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall, moments before Sam's voice crackled over my radio.

The ride back to the barn was spent in silence, yet again. We didn't need words, not tonight. There weren't any that could possibly work in this situation; there was nothing that could be said. A little girl, who hadn't even had a chance to begin her life, had had it taken from her, forcefully, by someone that she was supposed to trust, by the same people that were supposed to protect her. There was nothing that we could have done. That was the party line, but it was bullshit and everybody knew it.

I had practically stomped back into the barn, barely restraining myself as Frank called me into his office. The envelope sat, perfectly aligned on the corner of his desk, my name written in the middle. I knew what it was; it could only be one thing. What a way to top off the day. Giving a weak smile, I slipped them in my pocket, sparing a small smile for my superior officer before I ducked back out to complete the grueling paperwork that would provide an almost mindless respite from my thoughts until the shift was over and I could escape, finding solace in either silence or maybe a bottle…. I'd settle for either of them tonight.

I shouldn't be here. I should be anywhere BUT here and yet? Here I am.

The air is stifling, hot and so thick with humidity that you could cut it with a knife. It made my skin itch, shivers running up my spine despite the oppressive heat. Even the night itself seemed to be conceding to the weather. There were no cars, no chirping animals, no yelling children, just the occasional buzz of an insect, though even that was seldom.

The day had been a long one, to say the least, and the images, red and violent and so very final still,flashed behind my lids when I closed my eyes. The wine hadn't helped, although I knew it wouldn't. It never did. At most, it just encouraged bad decisions.

My shirt stuck to my back and I wished, not for the first time, that I had worn shorts instead of jeans when I left my house.

I stared at the door from my position on the sidewalk for a few minutes, as though willing it to give me an answer. Something about why I had ended up here. When it became clear that the blue wood wasn't going to actually give me an answer, I almost physically felt my resolve crumble and hopped up the whitewashed stairs of the small bungalow.

I could just barely hear the music through the door, the tune teasing my ears and bringing a small smile to my lips. It was a bit of a surprise, not exactly what I had known or come to expect from my swarthy partner, but it somehow suited him.

The knock was louder than I anticipated, more to be heard over the music than anything, and I flinched, despite knowing exactly where the sound was coming from. If anyone had asked though, I would have denied it until I was blue in the face. I had been on the job far too long for that, seen more in my twenty-eight years than most people had in a lifetime, both on the clock and off. I also pretended that it didn't bother me. I had to, I didn't have a choice. You either picked up the pieces and moved on or you drowned, and that was not how I would be going out.

The morbid thought brought all of the images flashing back, and I closed my eyes against the onslaught of images that flashed through my mind, to no avail. They came rushing back, rapid fire and flickering, like a piece of film that had aged and started to crack.

_I should have seen the signs. It's what I do. It's who I am. I see things that others don't. And when it is someone else, when I can be outside of the situation? I see everything. I don't miss a trick. I can't because if I do, there could be maybe a moment between me and a bullet._

_But when it's you, when you are the face that is usually on the other side of the glass? Everything is different. No matter how strong you think you are, how many layers of Kevlar and ill-fitting polyester you have, the fact that there is a gun strapped to one hip, cuffs on the other. No matter what that badge pinned to your shirt says… all of that is just for show. It can't protect you when you don't have it on._

_And so I sat._

_The flashing blue lights from the cruiser cast cold shadows across the darkened walls, blinding me with their insistence and I could see, even in silhouette, the all too familiar form of my partner heading up the path. I should answer the door, it was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen steps from my current place on the kitchen floor but I just… couldn't. I couldn't face him, not now, not like this._

_And so I sat._

_No. My face was tight from dried tears, and I could feel the swelling already, my cheek was still hot from the sting and there was no way I could hide that. Not with the sharp pain with every breath, the squeak that threatened to catch in my throat as I moved, just trying to catch my breath. My bare feet stung, a single misstep, and a hundred sharp edged shards, the bright red looked nearly black in the dark, grisly spatters against the white tile._

_And so I sat._

_I wasn't supposed to be so weak, I couldn't be. There was nothing I could say that could make this change. I had searched for every word in the book, some way to explain this, just to myself but I couldn't. I couldn't speak the words, I couldn't find the strength._

_And so I sat._

_The knock was authoritative and insistent, his voice filled with worry. It was THAT tone though. That one that he used around victims. The ones who couldn't fight back. The ones who lay crumpled and incomplete. The ones that couldn't speak, not anymore. I couldn't answer, I couldn't reply because that would be confirmation. It would be admitting that weak and those were words I could never speak._

_And so I sat._

_I ignored the pain, the sharp, aching reality that I knew wouldn't go. I ignored the tears that fell, once again, down my cheeks. I ignored the flashes of memories, the carousel of moments, that golden ring that slipped through my grasp time after time. I ignored the man that stood just a few steps away, offering help I wasn't able to take, not yet. It wasn't time yet._

"McNally?" His voice was low laced with… something. Concern? Fear? Surprise? All of the above? I couldn't tell, not entirely, not yet. "Come on in." I didn't need to say anything, not to him. He knew me better than anyone, and he had been there today, seen the same things. The violence. The senseless ending. The shattered lives. He knew. He wouldn't push, not about this.

Slipping past him, my skin prickled instantly, the air icy cold on my arms, a welcome change from the suffocating heat. I sang softly under my breath, the words as familiar as an old friend and more comforting.

The house was dark, save for a dim light from the kitchen, though he didn't look like he had been sleeping. The beer bottle placed just so on a coaster that sat in the corner of the coffee table was a give-away that I wasn't the only one having a rough night.

I glanced back up at him with a small smile as he stood against the doorframe, arms crossed, and my brow arched in an almost playful accusation.

"It was a long day McNally, you know that as well as anyone." Sam Swarek was not a man of many words, but those he did use were well chosen and surprisingly perfect with the barest hint of a smile played on his lips. The music slowed and then stopped, and I shot the iPod that sat docked in the ridiculous sound system a pointed glare.

Returning my attention to my partner, I rolled my eyes and grabbed the bottle from its perch. After raising it to my lips and draining it of its contents in a few moments, earned a low chuckle from him as I replaced it carefully on the coaster as the opening notes of the next song drifted to my ears.

"Van Morrison to Solomon Burke. I'm impressed Swarek." And I was, truly, and happily so.

"You know I live to impress you McNally." His voice was dry with just a touch of humor that I had come to expect from him, though there was more than a hint of concern laced through them. "Did you come over at one AM to listen to music and drink my beer?"

"Nope." I shook my head with my answer, eyes closing, hips moving to the familiar beat, "Although it is a bonus."

"Andy. Are you-"

"Dance with me." I cut him off, not ready or willing to talk about it, not yet, but met his gaze. "Please?"


	4. So Hard To Find My Way

**What I own: A ridiculous collection of hair products, a giant bottle of ice cream sprinkles and a pop tart maker.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, still not mine. I'm just playing in the sand box, I promise I will return them unharmed soon. Mostly. I'm not making a dime.**

**Author's Note: So yeah, this happened. I'm fully blaming all of you for being AMAZING! Seriously, I can't even begin to tell you how much all y'all mean to me. The fact that not only do you support my ridiculous little hobby, but you take YOUR precious time to read it and ENCOURAGE ME TO WRITE MORE, just… I'm gobsmacked. I was gonna go a whole other direction with this but that didn't happen because music… and because of the torture I thrust upon all of you yesterday. Janeycakes, master beta extraordinaire, is probably reading this at the same time y'all are because I have the patience of a four year old hopped up on pixie sticks and red bull, so it hasn't been beta'd yet. All mistakes, run ons and the tense that shifts like a fucking shifty thing, are mine. I HOPE this is starting to make a little sense for y'all. I LOVE hearing what you thing. Questions, comments and musical suggestions are welcome with open arms. Reviews make me grin like a movie star and are rewarded with sneak peeks at the next chapter. Y'all are the absolute best. **

'I don't dance Andy.' His words were incredulous and the tone dry, 100% pure Sam Swarek.

'Everybody dances Sam that excuse isn't going to fly.'

I didn't give him a choice after that, sliding my arms around his neck and resting my head on his shoulder, swaying softly to the familiar music. He was warm and strong, his closeness seeming to overwhelm my senses and I thought for just a moment of pulling away and heading back out the door, but I couldn't. He was familiar, the spicy scent of his cologne mixed with fabric softener and something that was just inherently him. My smile against his shoulder was genuine as strong arms slid around my waist, holding me loosely, a large hand splayed across my lower back, the warmth seeping through the thin cotton of my shirt, his thumb just barely brushing against the exposed skin between my shirt hem and the waistband of my jeans.

The tiny movement, weather intentional or simply an accident of positioning or a small comfort took me off guard and I stiffened, if only for a moment, my sense immediately heightened. Sam wasn't blind, the man knew me better than I knew myself some days, and his hand immediately moved up just enough that it wouldn't be a problem. It wasn't a problem, not really. I opened my mouth, thinking it over for an instant and closed it again, nearly shocking myself with my ability to keep quiet.

The music played soft and slow as we swayed, just barely, to the familiar song. Aside from the voice coming from the speakers, it was quiet, though far from uncomfortably so, not at all. If it had been anyone else, quite literally, it would have been an entirely different story. There was absolutely no one I felt safer with on this entire planet then the man I was standing with and I allowed my mind to drift.

The things that we had seen today, last week, hell over the last three years were enough to give anyone a complex, and that was just the job. The things that happened when the uniform was off? That was a whole other ballgame.

Everybody had their own ways of dealing with the things that this job, this life brought with us. Oliver had his kids and had, on more than one occasion, especially after a tough call, been known to stop by his house and just check on them, make sure that they were okay, despite the fact that they were all, or at least should have been, asleep. Or so Zoe said, usually with a warning about sleeping on the couch if he woke them. The knowing smile she wore as he passed, though, the way her eyes didn't leave him? Said otherwise.

Tracie and Jerry both spent time with Leo when things got rough, an activity that I had been lucky enough to join in on a time or two. I may not have been mother material, nor had the maternal role model growing up, but sometimes? Ice cream sundaes at midnight was just what the doctor ordered.

Gail and Dov had DeathDomain, insults and margaritas straight from the blender, while Chris found solace in the kitchen, doing god knows what but somehow magic always resulted. That alchemy was far beyond anything in my wheelhouse.

Sometimes though, the means to an end, that crutch that starts out as just a way to deal with a bad day can quickly become a downfall. My dad was a prime example of it. He didn't mean to become an alcoholic, it just started as a once in a while thing, but sometimes, especially when we think that we have the tightest grip on something, it is easiest to not even realize that we are slipping.

I wasn't quite sure what I had, not anymore. Not with the changes that had happened in the last six months, but I was very slowly finding out.

My sigh was soft, muffled against soft cotton as the song drifted off and silence enveloped the room for a moment. My fingers were twisted loosely in the back of his shirt and I released the material with a surprising pang of regret, though neither of us made any attempt to move.

"Not that I'm compl-" I unintentionally cut off his words with a shriek of absolute glee as the next song clicked on. The opening notes immediately caught my attention, as they had since I was a child. I felt my grin as I wriggled out of Sam's arms and bounced over to the radio, turning the volume up a few more notches. Singing significantly louder than I should have been, especially since I could not sing at all, I shimmied ridiculously past Sam and toed off my trainers by the kitchen door. Still bouncing, I grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and deposited them on the coffee table before dancing back over to my unimpressed looking partner, with my hands out.

"No Andy, Not happening." Rolling my eyes, I snagged one of his hands and lifted it over my head, twirling easily under it.

"Yes happening, how can you not sing to this song?" Taking his other hand, I executed what was quite possibly the sloppiest and possibly most embarrassing attempt at dancing I'd ever made, the steps from high school swing classes vaguely coming back to me.

"Do you remember when, we used to sing?" Keeping his hands in mine, I raised them both up and ducked under them again, twisting so my back was against his chest, both of our arms wrapped loosely around my torso as I bounced lightly on the balls of my feet.

"So hard to find my way, now that I'm all on my own, I saw you just the other day, my you have grown." His voice was quiet, and almost reluctant but I could almost hear the smile in his voice as I joined in, off key and horribly pitchy, the familiar words interspersed with giggles on my behalf and low, rumbly chuckles on his.

Again, the song seemed to end far too soon, and I twisted around, grinning brightly up at Sam before dropping his arms and plopping the opposite of gracefully on the couch and handing Sam a bottle of water before uncapping my own and taking a long swig before setting my bare feet in his lap.

The silence stretched on for several minutes, save for Adele crooning softly through the speakers. The choice was, once again surprising, but I didn't question it, instead focusing on the soft melodies as I relaxed.

"So now that you got that out of your system, you wanna tell me what's really going on? Cause I may have been born at night but it wasn't last night. I know you Andy and while there might be something to be said for late night dance parties, and bad days, it's not your usual style. What happened? " Never one to pull punches, I gave a dry laugh and nudged Sam's thigh with my foot, which he quickly caught. "I'm not saying you have to tell me, but it might help." Strong hands kneaded against the sole of my foot with a surprising gentleness and I sighed softly.

He was right, as usual, I knew it and so did he. As much as my little spontaneous stress relief had helped, it was more of a poor coping mechanism than anything else. A pretty distraction for a moment, an easy way to shove aside what really mattered. He didn't pry again, allowing me the time and space that I obviously needed, and he seemed content to just continue gentle pressure on my feet while I sat humming softly and tried to find the words to put my thoughts in order.

It wasn't hard, speaking, not really. Most of the time, I talked way more than I should, finding comfort in the noise. But right now, when it actually mattered? I just couldn't locate the words I needed. I could see them, I knew what they were, but actually stringing them together, these particular words, and speaking them aloud? I couldn't seem to figure out how. I knew that Sam wouldn't judge me, not for an instant, but I was already judging myself. Closing my eyes against the prick of tears that I could already feel, I spoke softly, my voice threatening to break.

"My divorce was finalized today." His hands stilled almost instantly and he stayed quiet, though I could feel his eyes on me. "Goddamnit." The curse was a whisper as I felt a tear slip down my cheek and splash against my chest before I could wipe it away. It was quickly followed by another, and then the damn broke as I bit back a sob.

I shouldn't be upset, I really shouldn't. This was a good thing, a great thing actually. I had moved ahead, finally gotten rid of Preston, in every way. There was nothing left that he could hang over me, not now and not ever again. This was what I had wanted, what I had fought for and it was real now, finalized in black and white. So why did it still hurt?

"C'mere." I didn't need a second invitation and I was across the couch in a flash, tears streaming down my cheeks and dampening Sam's shirt. I wasn't sure where the tears came from or why they had even started, but they wouldn't stop. Curled up on my best friend's lap, I wept. I cried for what I had and for what I had lost. My marriage and the end of it. I cried for the girl that I had once been who lost her mother and for the little girl today that had lost everything. Tears fell for everything and nothing at all, drenching Sam's shirt that was fisted in my hands.

He didn't say anything, not really, aside from some muffled reassurances as he gently rubbed my back, holding me close until I cried myself to sleep.


	5. Hardest Part Is Lettin Go Of Your Dream

**What I own: A kindle with a purple cover and somewhere upwards of fifty Rookie Blue fics on it (YES SOME OF YOU READING, I HAVE YOUR STORIES AND I READ THEM AGAIN AND AGAIN), A ridiculous phone case that leaves a trail of rhinestones where ever I go and a dog bone shaped cookie cutter.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, still not mine, I just like to play in the sandbox. I promise I will clean everyone up when I am done. I'm also not making any money off of this work of fiction.**

**Author's Note: Oops I did it again… I know. I can't explain it. You can thank Slm37 for this coming out as quickly as it did… she and I babbled via twitter all day today and I just couldn't help it. I am SO AMAZED by all y'all, I legit can't even stand it. It is an absolute joy to be a part of such a supportive and FUN fandom. This isn't beta'd yet, SorryNotSorry, but I am pretty sure Janeycakes knows how I roll. I hope y'all enjoy the latest adventure into McSwarek land… this one is a bit lighter. Questions? Comments? Have a song that you think captures McSwarek? Hit me up on twitter, I LOVE to talk. Bonus points and a shout out in later chapters to whoever can tell me the songs I have used in some way that have not been directly mentioned... I'm a music junkie and LOVE to pass that on however I can and there are SEVERAL there. **

I woke with a start, my breath catching in my throat, a strangled gasp on my lips as fleeting, gossamer images of my nightmare quickly dissipated from my mind. It was still dark outside, silvery moonlight filtering through the blinds. Blinds that were in decidedly the wrong place. And the bed, while comfy, wasn't mine either, the comforter I was sprawled across not nearly as fluffy as my own down. Blinking and giving my head a small shake to clear the cobwebs, I glanced around as best as I could. The numbers on the clock shone bright blue in the darkness. 3:24. My head ached and my eyes were dry and puffy, not an unusual occurrence for me. Leaning over, I glanced at the framed photograph that sat beside the clock, a small, sad smiling coming to my lips as I took in the obviously candid photo of Sam and a smiling, dark haired woman, Sarah I presumed.

Flashes of the evening came back to me and I couldn't help the small smile that formed as I slid off the bed. My jeans were tight and uncomfortable, my skin prickly from the heat. My eyes gradually adjusted to the dark and I crossed to the bureau, laughing at the stack of towels and t-shirt that sat on top of it. The man thought of everything.

Twenty minutes later, I was laying back in bed, showered and as refreshed as I was going to get. At the very least not sticky and sweaty, courtesy of ivory soap and some oddly feminine smelling shampoo. My hair hung in damp waves, surely to be a disaster in the morning but right now all I wanted was sleep. And yet? No. I stared up at the ceiling, willing that familiar sense of relaxation to wash back over me to no avail. My body was absolutely exhausted by my mind wouldn't stop, disjointed images of my nightmare running across it like a broken filmstrip.

Tossing the sheet back, I got out of bed and tiptoed down the stairs, moving as quietly as I could through the cool dark house, shivering slightly in just the oversized t-shirt. I knew where I was headed, having been here more than a few times over the last few months so that didn't explain the catch in my throat as I knocked carefully on the closed bedroom door before opening it to peek into the pitch black room.

"McNally, you okay?" I had obviously woken him, his words slightly slurred and heavy with sleep, though still concerned.

"I can't get back to sleep." My voice was small, almost scared, and I tugged absently at my damp hair. A small chuckle and the rustle of blankets sounded and I could hear the amusement in his words.

"Come on McNally, just don't steal my blankets."

He had barely finished speaking and I was across the room, slipping between the cool sheets and curling into his side as strong arms wrapped tightly around me, lips brushing across my head.

"Thanks Sam, for you know, everything."

"Don't thank me just yet McNally, if you keep talking you are going back to the guest room. Now sleep."

Closing my eyes, I shockingly did as I was told and drifted quickly into a deep, dreamless sleep.

My dreams had been vivid as long as I could remember, bright colors, loud sounds and always, always, ALWAYS crystal clear the next morning, even if they didn't last or make sense. It was great for pleasant dreams, those happy moments where you thank your unconscious for being as random and wonderful as it is, even if you are left wondering about why in the world an army of cats singing Lady Gaga was parading down the beach as soon as you wake up.

Unfortunately, along with remembering the good, I remembered the bad. For some reason, the nightmares always seemed so much more than regular dreams, and they never seemed to fade into the ether as easily. They lingered for so much longer after I woke, usually screaming. The haunting images flashed behind my lids long after consciousness gripped me and lingered as I tried to go back to sleep. The recurring nightmares were the worst. No matter when I woke up, I always knew what was coming next and I was afraid to close my eyes. I had them for as long as I could remember.

One of the earliest memories I had of my mom was after a nightmare. For some reason, a giant patchwork quilt pig as chasing me and my cousin Shannon down the main street and getting bigger and bigger as it ate street lamps, plunging the city into darkness. I woke up sobbing and thrashing, and her hands were cool and lemon scented as she smoothed my bangs back, whispering nonsense and rubbing my back until I fell asleep again. It was one of the few times she was an actual mother to me, when I woke screaming, and she kept it up until the night she walked out of our lives for good. The nightmares stayed though, I just learned to deal with them as best as I could on my own. As great as Tommy was, it wasn't really his forte', especially after he started drinking heavily. The same thing was true of Preston, when we were together. He had very little patience for being woken up, no matter what the cause, and I spent many a night in the guest room after waking up with a parched throat and an accusing look, as though it was something I could control.

There were days, especially over the last few months, where the nightmares had been the least of my problems. No, the dreams that had plagued me lately were significantly more… pleasant. And that was the issue. I'd wake up hot and bothered, almost still able to feel the fingers that had run over my long neglected skin.

Tonight was no exception, if anything it was worse.

A strong hand slid over my ribcage, long fingers calloused from work, ghosted over the bottom of my breasts. A second hand was tangled in my hair and stubble scratches pleasantly against my neck, the slight sting quickly soothed by a trail of wet kisses. Goddamn. It had been months since I'd been touched at all, even longer since the hands had belonged to someone who didn't have only their pleasure in mind. There was never a face in my dreams, and that should have bothered me but it never did, not really. I took what I could get and, at this point my dream man would stay exactly as he was.

"McNally" The word was a throaty groan against my neck and a little red flag flashed somewhere in the back of my mind. That was new. Very new. I remembered every detail of my dreams, cursed as I was and never once had words been spoken much less in Sam's voice. Sam…

Gasping, I blinked my eyes open, fully expecting to, once again be alone and worked up. Not the case. The hand that had worked its way under my borrowed t-shirt and was doing inexplicably delightful things to my skin, the low rumble of the voice in my ear, the very warm and VERY hard body that I was held tightly against were all real. His presence overwhelmed my senses, and it took everything in my not to wiggle back against him. I couldn't, not now. Not like this. Swallowing hard, my throat parched, I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment as Sam's lips grazed a particularly sensitive spot just below my ear.

"Sam. Sam." My voice was low, and I fought to ignore the sensations that were racing through my traitorous body. The soft hum against my neck was not the response that I needed… well, not technically and I bit back a moan.

"SAM." Louder this time, almost at a normal speaking volume. The hands abruptly stilled and warm breath fanned over the sensitive skin of my neck.

"McNally?" His voice was heavy with sleep, and more than a little confused. I could just imagine the realization dawning on his face as his hand slipped out from under my shirt. I immediately missed the contact and pouted just a bit, until his strong arm snaked around my waist, his lips brushing against the back of my head for just a moment.

"I never pegged you for a cuddler, Swarek." I kept my voice light and felt the bed shift as he slipped out of it. He was bare-chested and with cotton pajama pants hanging low on his hips, mussed hair and sleepy eyes behind a pair of seldom seen glasses, he gave me a small smile before exiting the room, his voice echoing down the hall.

"There is a lot you don't know about me McNally." The words held the barest hint of a laugh and I didn't bother to fight my grin as I fell back against the pillows, curling into the recently vacated and still warm spot beside me. I'd found out more that I had imagined already , and I didn't think I was up for any more surprises, not yet at least. Sam's familiar, comforting scent surrounded me as my eyes closed and I drifted back into a much needed sleep.


	6. If You Try Sometimes

**What I own: A ceramic fleur de lis travel mug, a cherry necklace and 40 pairs of knee socks**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, still not mine, I just like to play in the sand box. I promise I will put everyone back once I am done. They may be a little dirty though and I'm not even a little sorry. **

**Author's Note: I'm back! These two finally decided to start talking again. I know the chapters are still relatively short, but there is a reason for that, though it probably only makes sense to me at this point in time. So I agonized over this chapter because Sam talks. A lot. And that made me kind of twitchy because the primary voice for me here is Andy and I KNOW how beloved Sam is, I'm just worried I won't do him justice. ANYWAY. This hasn't been beta'd yet, so Janeycakes is probably going to kill me, or at least glare sternly. All the mistakes and shifty fucking tense are alllll mine. I embrace them because that's how I do. Reviews will be rewarded, as always with sneak peeks of the next chapter and, in addition, make me grin like a movie star, so there is that. Questions? Comments? Suggestions for music? Find me lurking on twitter, I love to chat. **

The scent of coffee slowly pulled me from my sleep, and I blinked against the sunlight streaming through the windows, whimpering and pulling the pillow over my head. The ache was gone and I felt oddly well rested, I just didn't want to get up.

"McNally." The voice was teasing and I could hear him smiling. Peeking out from beneath my hiding place, I glared at my fully dressed and annoyingly awake partner, before my sleepy eyes landed on the mug in his hands.

"For me?"

"Yeah, iced, black, extra sugar…." His dimples made an appearance and I threw the pillow petulantly in his direction, being rewarded with a deep chuckle, before crawling out of the bed and snagging the warm mug and taking a sip. Extra hot and lots of milk. Perfect.

"That was mean you know." Gripping the life-giving liquid in one hand, I tugged the other through my ridiculously tangled hair.

"It wasn't mean McNally, it got you caffeine. And you are welcome. This is an interesting look by the way." Sam's dark eyes trailed over my form and I was suddenly reminded of my state of mostly undress.

Another eye roll and halfhearted punch to his shoulder and I headed out of the room and upstairs in search of my own clothes and the toothbrush I knew was under the sink.

Thirty minutes and a leisurely shower later, I headed downstairs. My damp hair was pulled back in a tight braid and the very oversized, though clean, t-shirt hung over my jeans and my long empty coffee cup was clasped in my hands. Something smelled absolutely delectable and I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face as I paused before entering the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. The Rolling Stones filtered through the air and Sam stood at the stove barefoot, back to me, with a dish towel slung over his shoulder. I could barely hear him singing along as he stirred something in one pan. Bacon sizzled on another burner, and a loaf of bread and carton of eggs sat on the counter by the fridge.

As amused and, frankly intrigued as I was by this unexpected display of domesticity, I couldn't help myself. Silently crossing the cool tile, I stop just behind him and rise up on my tiptoes to peek over his shoulder, singing quietly.

"But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need." My laugh was rewarded with a glare for just a moment before attention was turned back to, what I now could see, were potatoes and onions browning away.

"Keep it up McNally, and you won't get anything." As gruff as he was attempting to be, I could see the twinkle in his eyes.

"I call bullshit. Aside from the fact that you are making WAY to much food for one person, you wouldn't let me leave hungry." Laughing, I step around him and reach into the fridge for the milk, splashing a generous amount into my mug before replacing it and hopping up on the counter between the stove and the coffee pot, my bare feet swinging against the lower cabinets as I finished making my second cup of coffee.

"That's awfully big talk there McNally, you so sure of that fact?" I didn't even get a glance but I could see one of his dimples making an appearance.

"Yup." I popped the p, just for kicks, and smiled into my coffee mug, taking a long swallow of the hot liquid. "I happen to know for a fact that you wouldn't make me walk home on an empty stomach."

"Well no, I wouldn't make you walk home on an empty stomach, but I have no qualms with giving you a ride on an empty stomach.* I can see him trying, and failing to fight a smile as he deftly cracks half a dozen eggs into a skillet, stirring them gently with a bamboo turner.

My own kitchen skills were lacking to say the least, although they had improved in the last few months now that I'd had more time and choices over what I prepared, though obviously I had nothing on my partner. I watched in awe as he stirred the eggs gently with one hand and popped bread in the toaster with the other before sliding the eggs off the heat and back on.

"Can I do anything?" The offer was valid, although at this point I'm fairly certain that my only contribution could involve getting plates and silverware, maybe buttering toast.

"No McNally, you just sit there and relax. I've got this, trust me." The concentration on his face rivaled that which I often saw while we were at work and I couldn't seem to look away.

"I think it's pretty safe to say I trust you Sam." My voice was quiet, and cracked just slightly, though I couldn't understand why. I'd meant the remark flippantly but it almost instantly took on an unexpectedly flippant turn. Setting my mug down, I dropped my head and knitted my fingers together, my gaze on the band of pale skin that still stood out on the ring finger of my left hand. I had taken the rings off more than two months ago, but their absence still caught me at the strangest of times. They had been so intrinsically a part of who I was for over five years that it still occasionally caught me by surprise. I heard burners click off and the toaster pop up before I felt, rather than saw, Sam in front of me, stepping between my legs. A finger under my chin, slightly calloused and exceptionally gentle, tilted my head up and I met concerned brown eyes, the extra height from my perch on the counter nearly making up for our usual height difference.

"I know you do Andy. And I also know what's going on in that pretty head of yours, I can practically hear the gears turning. You need to give yourself a break, you deserve it. This doesn't need reiterating, but I'm gonna say it anyway to make sure you really get it. Now. Are you listening to me?" The words themselves may have been stern, but there was a gentleness to his voice that I'd only noticed a few times before and I nodded silently, unable to look away.

"You deserve so much better than him, you always have. I know it. Ollie knows it. Hell, Epstein knew it and there are days where I doubt that kid knows up from down. You know it too, you just didn't want to see it. As much of an asset as that lion's heart of yours can be, it can be, and was, your biggest downfall." I opened my mouth to speak, slightly confused as opposed to offended, but was silenced with a finger against my lips. "Let me finish, I don't make a habit of doing this often." Another nod and my bangs slipped from behind my ear, falling in front of my eyes.

"I'm not going to pretend I understood why you stayed for so long, or even why you were with him in the first place, but the fact that you left? That you were able and willing to take that risk, and it was, no matter what you say to the contrary, is nothing but a testament to your strength. It has been a very long six months but it's over. You don't need to fight anymore. Cut yourself a break McNally, you earned it." With a small smile, Sam gently brushed my hair out of my eyes, tucking the errant strands securely behind my ear. I felt the telltale sting of tears in my eyes and I shook my head just slightly before leaning forward and wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight hug, my face buried against the soft cotton of his shirt. Strong and familiar arms easily circled my waist, pulling me into a warm embrace.

"Thank you." The words were muffled into his shoulder and I was rewarded with a deep chuckle.

"Stop that. Nothing to thank me for sweetheart. Now get your ass off my counter and let's eat before it gets cold." With a gentle tug, he pulled me off the counter and set me down, giving me one last grin before turning his attention back to the stove and quickly plating up an amazing looking breakfast.

"Yes Sir." I don't hide my laugh and busy myself preparing another cup of coffee for him, black with two heaping spoons of sugar, as well as topping off my own. I knew he was right, he always was. His words, as uncharacteristic as they may have seemed, were somehow exactly what I needed to hear, even if I hadn't convinced myself of that yet. All things happen in time, I suppose, and some things just take longer than others. I had a feeling though, that things in my life were about to change in a very welcome way and, for the first time in a very, very long time, I looked forward to what the future held without trepidation.


	7. Hot Summer Nights, Mid-July

**What I own: A (half) bag of Cadbury's White mini eggs, four Blackberries and a bowl devoted strictly to eating soup from.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Still. They aren't mine, I just [play with them sometimes. I promise I'll put them back when I am done playing, though they may be a little dirty.**

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry I vanished for so long y'all! Life got all kinds of crazy between work and injuries and what not and sadly writing fell to the wayside. BUT I'm back now, and hopefully y'all will enjoy this little chapter. It's short but I had to stop where I did or it would have gotten all kinds of insane. BUT I have the next chapter all mapped out so I should have that up soon, I am aiming for tomorrow. I am still awed by all of your support, both review and alert wise, you all seriously make me absolutely giddy. This is SUCH a supportive and amazing fandom, and I want to thank each and every one of you for being your wondrous selves. This is un-beta'd as yet because I am impatient as all get out, so all the mistakes and run-ons are mine and mine alone. Reviews make me grin like a movie star and are rewarded with sneak peeks of upcoming chapters. Questions? Comments? Wanna get included on the preview list? PM me here or hot me up on twitter, I love to talk. Happy reading!**

The next month had passed by quickly, a blur of long shifts, maxed out overtime and increasingly sleepless nights, spotted with two day stretches of sleep and a few novels crossed off my to be read list. It was a slow process but I had slowly been getting out again, a drink after shift here, dinner there, always with Sam's words ringing in my head.

The heat had gotten absolutely ridiculous. Wrinkling my nose in frustration, I shoved my ponytail messily under my cap, the fine baby hairs still plastered to my neck. After three years on this job, I should be used to being out in the oppressive weather but, despite how prepared I always say I am, it never goes that way. Between the heavy Kevlar and layers of cotton I was no glowing, nor perspiring, I was flat out sweating.

It was barely noon and the mercury had long since passed 38 degrees, the air so thick and heavy with humidity that I felt like I was swimming as opposed to walking as I wandered the park, Sam not that far behind.

The call had come in anonymously, a report of a little girl wandering through the park unattended. We had been here for nearly forty-five minutes, searching for any sign of the tot, to no avail and we were reaching the tree lined perimeter, the grass slowly giving way to dirt paths that vanished into the surrounding woods.

Pulling off my sunglasses, I swipe at my forehead with the back of my hand, in a vain attempt to wipe away some of the sweat that was threatening to drip down into my eyes when I saw it. Nothing much, just a flash against the green shrubs but it was something. Squinting as I walked closer, I felt my breath catch as a shockingly small form became visible, purple and white standing out in stark contrast to the dirt and green. Breaking into a run, I hollered over my shoulder without looking back, knowing instinctively that Sam was right behind me.

Dropping to my knees, I winced slightly as the hit the hard ground, my eyes trained on the face of the little girl, I sucked in a sharp breath as I took her in: She could not have been more than four, long, dark lashes rested on rounded cheeks, a tangle of riotous brown curls had been wrestled into pigtails and tied with purple polka dotted ribbons, the left one long gone, her purple and white flowered dress was spotted with dirt and green smudges from the grass and she lay frighteningly still. One tiny shoe and sock had vanished and for some reason it broke my heart. My bare fingers struggled to find a pulse on her neck. Her face was bright from the sun, cheeks and nose a painful looking red. "Come on, come ON." I cursed under my breath as my fingers pressed against warm skin. I could hear Sam behind me, rapidly calling dispatch, as I chanted under my breath. There. There it was, the slight movement under my fingers. It was faint and her skin was hot to the touch, but it was there. She had a pulse. My smile, though tight, is relieved, and I call to Sam over my shoulder.

"She has a pulse!" The relief in my voice was noticeable, even to me, and I brushed a curl from her forehead as her small pink lips parted to suck in a small breath as a tiny, clammy hand wrapped around my fingers. "It's okay, you're gonna be okay." I spoke softly, giving the little hand a soft squeeze and found myself believing the words, more because I wanted to than because I had too.

The hours passed quickly, the majority of my time spent sitting in a bustling ER beside a bed that looked far too big for its tiny inhabitant. Her hair was dark against the starched white sheets and pillow and her brown eyes fluttered open and closed, usually when the nurse, a petite woman in pastel scrubs whose nametag read Shay in bright, primary colors, came in to check on her. She didn't say a word, not to me, not to the doctor, not to the doctor that flittered in and out, and not to the social services worker that had sat by her bedside, unsuccessfully attempting to glean any information from her. The IV that had been inserted into her small hand was running fluids and medicine into her little arm, the hand still grasped tightly around my fingers. I talked to her as she lay there still, about everything and nothing at the same time: stilted tales about time spent with Leo at the park, an amusing anecdote about a shift with Sam, some ridiculous stories of my own when I was growing up, hastily retold fairy tales, whatever I could think of to assure her that she was not alone. Her eyes stayed closed, but I could see the small ghost of a smile on her lips and her fingers tightened around mine.

I felt his presence in the doorway before I heard him and smiled automatically, my greeting quiet.

"Hey Sir." His chuckle was quiet, footfalls silenced on the tile as he crossed the small room and stood behind me.

"McNally. Still not talking?" I gave a quick glance over my shoulder and shook my head, brushing my hair out of my eyes with a disgusted grimace.

"Not a word, nope." I let my eyes drift to the clock on the wall, sighing as I read the time. It was nearly midnight, almost four hours after our shift was supposed to have ended. No words were spoken as I met Sam's eyes and nodded mutely before turning my attention back to the still child beside me. With my free hand, I adjusted the daisy print blanket that Shay had brought in, tucking the fuzzy purple fabric beneath her chin and brushed my fingers across her cheek. "Sleep well sweetie." Reluctantly, I slipped my hand from her and stood, following my partner to the door when a small voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Andy? Come see me tomorrow?" It was small and heavy with sleep, but I didn't hide my bright smile as I looked back and met a pair of wide brown eyes.

"Of course I will, after your lunch probably." I meant it too, my previous plans of doing laundry going directly out the window.

"Kay." The reply was muffled as her eyes drifted closed again and a small puff of air escaped her lips as she fell back asleep. Sam shook his head and I gave him a pointed look before heading out of the room.

The ride back to the barn was comfortably quiet, and I spent a good portion of it staring out the window. I hadn't realized how tire I was until I'd settled in the passenger seat. Four hours of sleep, countless cups of coffee, sixteen hours on the job and the heat were finally catching up with me and my eyes drifted shut.

I woke to the sound of the cruiser door shutting and shook off the haze of sleep as I got out of the vehicle and glanced over at Swarek, opening my mouth to speak only to be silenced by a raised hand, and that unmistakable TO voice.

"Go change. Paperwork can wait. If you're not out in ten minutes I'm coming in after you." Without another word, he turned and headed inside. Too exhausted to argue, I headed into the quiet station, the lights dimmed and the low drone of conversation buzzing in the air. The locker room was empty and I was quietly thankful, quickly trading my uniform and boots for the linen sundress and sandals that I'd worn in this morning, the light white material one of my few concessions to the heat. Gathering my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and headed out to the hallway, colliding with Swarek as I exited.

"Easy McNally. Come on, let's go." I blinked in confusion but complied as a large hand rested against the small of my back, easily leading me out of the station. The night was humid, darkness bringing very little respite from the heat as I silently allowed myself to be led toward Sam's truck, crossing my arms and arching a brow as he unlocked the passenger side door.

"It's been a long day, you haven't eaten, it's hotter than and who knows the last time you slept. I have food, a shower and a bed. Plus, I'll bring you to the hospital tomorrow if, and only if, you come with me. Let's go." The words were accompanied by a smile, complete with dimples and I rolled my eyes as I climbed up into the truck and fastened my seatbelt, feigning a frown.

"You drive a hard bargain, Officer Swarek, but I suppose I have no choice but to accept." My frown slips and I dissolve into laughter as he slides easily into the driver seat.

"That's what I was hoping to hear McNally, now relax, I'll wake you up when we get to the house. "

"I'm not that ti-" My words are cut off by a large yawn that I didn't bother hiding. I shook my head at the 'I told you so' smirk on my partner's face and leaned the seat back, quickly giving into the sleep that claimed me.


	8. What Would Happen

**What I own: Four cans of Cranberries & Frost air freshener (It smells like candy and is only available once a year, I have to stock up!), ten different kinds of Crystal Light and seven travel mugs because Coffee reasons.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. I know, it still isn't mine. Shocking, huh? I just like to play in the sandbox sometimes. I promise I'll return them when I'm done.**

**Author's Note: This took FOREVER y'all, I'm sorry. Life has been 18 kinds of crazy of late and sitting down without falling asleep has been a challenge. Y'all have been like… insanely supportive, I can't even begin to tell you how excited I get when I get alerts or reviews… seriously, I pretty much do a dorkier version of the Paul Rudd dance, true fax. ANYWAY. This is short but I needed to end it where I did because reasons. I PROMISE things will start getting longer soon, Girl Scouts honor, and yes, I am still a Girl Scout. This is totally un-beta'd, so all the mistakes, run ons and tense that shifts like a fucking shifty thing is ALLLLLLL mine. Janeycakes catches all of those when she has the time. As always, reviews make me dork dance and are rewarded with sneak peeks and praise. Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Find me on Twitter or PM me, I love to chat. Happy reading!**

Something smelled absolutely heavenly. The intoxicating scent of onions and garlic pierced through my thin haze of sleep and I blinked my eyes open, more than a little confused. Sitting up, the throw that had been draped over me fell to my lap as I glanced around, the fog lifting as I took in my familiar surroundings. The room was dark, but a dim light shone from the closed door that I knew lead to the kitchen. Tossing aside the throw, I stretched my arms above my head languidly, my spine cracking as the vertebrae aligned. With a happy sigh, I slipped off of the bed and padded to the door, my bare feet silent on the polished hardwood. Tugging the door open, I squinted at the bright light, screwing up my nose as I blinked rapidly and leaning against the doorframe as my eyes adjusted to the change in surroundings.

"That's attractive McNally." The teasing words were accompanied by a low chuckle and I stuck my tongue out at Sam who stood at the stove, stirring away. Crossing the kitchen, I poured grabbed a bottle of water and hopped up on the counter beside the stove, smoothing my skirt.

"You could have woken me up you know." I kicked my feet against the lower cabinet doors, as I stretched to glance at stove. A rapidly boiling pot of water sat on the back burner, filled with what looked like penne, and Sam was carefully stirring a pan of rich looking bolognese sauce.

"You were out like a light, it was easier to just carry you." The words, as always, were nonchalant, but I could see a hint of a smile.

"Well, thank you just the same. For the nap and the food." Unscrewing the cap from my water, I took a long swallow, soothing my parched throat. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Nope. I'm almost done actually, if you want to go find something to watch?" He didn't look at me as he spoke, focusing instead on the pan in front of him and giving the noodles a stir.

"Yes. Sir." Grinning, I jumped off the counter and headed to the living room, pausing to pursue Sam's ridiculously vast movie collection, my fingers gently running over the cases. I barely contained a laugh as I recognized a title and plucked it from the shelf, loading it quickly and curling up on the couch, forcing a straight face.

I didn't have to wait long before Sam showed up, two steaming, shallow pasta bowls balanced in his hands. He handed one to me, which I accepted happily, before plopping down beside me on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. My eyes widened and my mouth watered as I looked down in my bowl, rich sauce piled atop pasta and covered in what looked like fresh parmesan. My stomach rumbled loudly and I smiled in thanks before digging in, moaning in delight.

"This is absolutely delicious." My words were mumbled between less than dainty bites as I inhaled the meal, both of us eating in silence, the movie forgotten for the time being, in favor of silencing our growling stomachs.

Not ten minutes later, I set my empty bowl down on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh, tucking both feet beneath me and turning towards Sam.

"If I thought I could do it justice I would ask for the recipe but I think this is beyond my limited kitchen skillset."

"I wouldn't give it to you anyway. Sarah made me swear on my badge that I wouldn't give it to anyone. Especially someone that would mess it up." The words were spoken with Sam's usual nonchalance as he mirrored my position, a teasing smile playing on his face.

Wrinkling my nose, I playfully shoved his shoulder before snagging the remote that sat between us and flipped on the television, queueing up the movie with a saccharine smile as the menu screen came on.

"You know, Swarek, I'd be a lot nicer to me if I were you." I kept my gaze on my partner as recognition dawned on his face once the menu screen popped up, piano music drifting softly through the speakers.

The lights were dim but I could swear that the tips of his ears turned pink and he took a long swallow of the beer that was balanced on the edge of the coffee table. "Sarah left it." Succinct and brusque as usual, although Sam noticeably avoided my gaze, his eyes darting around the room and resting anywhere but on me or the TV screen.

I don't bother to hide my laugh and lean over, nudging his shoulder with mine. "I call bullshit Sam, no way. This was perfectly integrated in with the rest of your DVD collection. If it was Sarah's, it would be on the hall table with Katie's shoes and Landon's ballcap." To emphasize my point, I tilted my head towards the small table containing the aforementioned items as well as a bowl for change.

"The fact that you noticed those is a signifier that you are spending far too much time here."

Scoffing, I turn and drop my bare feet easily into Swarek's lap, regarding him with a wry smile.

"I'm sorry, I spend too much time here? Who is the one that forces me here after long shifts? I don't recall having a choice in the matter more often than not." I fight to keep the laugh out of my voice and reach over, grabbing the beer bottle from its resting spot on the table and draining it of the last bits of beer. "Besides, if I recall correctly, you called me on Leo's t-ball bat and Dov's jacket at my place last week." Sparing a glance to the image on the large TV, I return my gaze to my partner with a bright smile. "Looks like I learn something new every day."

"There's a lot you don't know about me McNally." The words were a direct echo of those tossed at me a little over a month ago, the memory of that morning bringing with it a slight blush to my cheeks.

"There may be a lot I don't know, but Nicholas Sparks movies, Sam, really? Not only would I not know about that, the thought never would have occurred to me, not once in a million years. Porn? Wouldn't surprise me. Maybe a hidden stash of Mad magazines, some Law and Order fanfiction, perhaps but never 'A Walk-" My words are cut off suddenly with a gasp, abruptly silenced by Sam's lips pressing gently against mine, his hand softly sliding into my hair. My eyes drifted closed and I instinctively leaned into him, hands pressing against Sam's muscular chest, his warmth radiating through the soft fabric as I returned the tender kiss, as I felt him smile against my lips, his low chuckle reverberating in his chest as he pulled away just slightly.

"You talk too much McNally."


	9. It's So Beautiful When The Boy Smiles

**What I Own: A fabric 'Catching Fire' poster, more lotion than one person can possible use in one lifetime and a copy of 'A Walk To Remember' on DVD. Yes, it is mine. **

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. If I did, I guarantee things would be a bit different. I just like to play in the sandbox. I promise, I'll clean everyone up before I return them. **

**Author's Note: So. This happened. I'm still in constant awe by all of the support I'm getting from all of you. Every review, alert, PM or tweet has me smiling like an absolute fool. I can't begin to express how grateful I am for all of you. You could be using your time to be doing ANYTHING with your free time like researching a cure for cancer, knitting sweaters for the animals at the shelter, watching Rookie Blue, hell, even folding socks (which reminds me, where DO the socks in the dryer disappear to? I'm convinced they are in Narnia with all of the bobby pins and hair bands I have lost over the years) but instead, you are choosing to read my words. I still can't get over that. I am having SUCH an amazing time with this story, and the fact that' y'all like it too? Beyond platinum. This is un-betad because I suck at that whole waiting thing, so any and all mistakes, run-on sentences and shifting tense is mine and mine alone. Janeycakes doesn't let me get away with any of that after she reads them. She makes my dirty words pretty. Anyway, this is for all y'all because you make me smile like a movie star. Reviews, as always, are rewarded with babble and previews in your PM Inbox. Questions? Comments? Song suggestions? Feel free to PM or find me on twitter, I'm a little addicted to talking with y'all. I hope you enjoy!**

My head spun and I blinked rapidly before meeting Sam's gaze, his words ringing in my ears. Opening my mouth, I closed it again when I couldn't seem to figure out how to actually form a coherent sentence, choosing instead to do my impression of a fish out of water which was obviously amusing, evidenced by the chuckle it earned me.

"I never thought I'd see the day you were actually speechless McNally." The words were accompanied by and bright smile, all dimples and ridiculously white teeth and I felt my cheeks flush in spite of myself.

"It doesn't happen often Sam, you should consider yourself lucky." Well apparently my power of speech had returned although I still wasn't exactly functioning at full capacity.

"Oh I do, very." Turning away just slightly, he dropped my gaze, strong hands wrapping around one of the feet currently laying in his lap, applying gentle pressure to the sole and causing an almost automatic sigh to fall from my lips.

"That is gonna be my downfall, you know that right?" Leaning back against the arm of the couch, I give a light tug on the throw behind me and toss it haphazardly over my legs, leaving my feet bare.

"You say that every time and I have yet to see you fall."

Rolling my eyes, I nudged his leg with my free foot and shook my head before grabbing the remote that lay beside me and starting the movie. I wasn't really planning on paying attention to it, I'd seen it many times before as it was one of my go-to, 'I need a good cry' choices.

"You've seen me fall more times than I can count. Remember when I was chasing that kid on the Scavenger hunt? Or what about the day of the blackout? I can go on if you'd like..." My words were teasing and accompanied by a small smile that I futilely hoped would pacify my partner, although judging by the expression on his face, my attempt at avoidance wasn't as successful as I'd hoped. A light tickle along the bottom of my free foot and a raised brow was more than enough of a hint that it wouldn't go undiscussed.

"No, no need. Believe me, I remember. Those times, amongst others. Let's not forget how clumsy you seemed to be at home." His words seemed harsh but were softened by the care evident in both his voice and touch as he turned his attention to my other foot, words trailing off as calloused fingers drifted lightly over my ankle before applying light pressure to my calf.

Worrying my bottom lip between my teeth, I absently pulled my hands through my hair. I knew what Sam meant of course, but it was a subject that more often than not was avoided on both of our accounts. The allusion was not lost on me, and I closed my eyes in an attempt to center myself. The familiar dialogue was the only sound in the room as we both sat with our thoughts.

I replayed the moment over and over, and I felt my cheeks warm, though definitely not because of the heat of the day. The kiss, while incredibly surprising, had also been remarkably sweet despite the fact that it was supposedly intended to shut me up. It had worked, so there was that. To say I was conflicted was more than an understatement. There had always been… something between Sam and me, though I'd always chalked it up to working so closely together for so long. It would be a lie to think that the thought of something more between he and I had never occurred to me, there had been a few 'what if's' over the last four and a half years, of course, but I often attributed them more to how much time we spent around each other than anything else. After all, up until a month ago I was technically married, although if I was honest with myself, and I was slowly learning to be, things between Preston and I had been over for much, much longer than that, and I was grasping at straws and fighting for something that probably shouldn't have been in the first place. I was very young when I'd met Preston, we were quintessential high school sweethearts, as cliché as it sounds, and I had convinced myself that I was happy even when, looking back, it was painfully obvious that I was anything but.

"I can practically hear you thinking McNally, spit it out." The steady, gentle pressure of Sam's hands quickly sent any tension that may have been lingering out the window, and I opened my eyes. I was greeted with a knowing smile, though that wasn't really any different than any other day. As easy to read as I seemed to be, especially to him, Sam had always stumped me, although with time I had gotten better at picking up the subtle changes in him; a clenched jaw, hands fisted in his pockets, voice slightly drier than usual, all were very subtle cues that there was something upsetting him and most people probably wouldn't be able to pick up on even that much. The fact that I could, and did, was a source of possibly misplaced pride for me. Right now though, all of those cues were absent and his eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth in the dim light of the TV.

"Why did you kiss me?" The words tumbled from my lips before I could think and I twisted my fingers in the blanket that lay across my lap. His hands stilled for a moment and I pouted slightly at the loss of the pleasant pressure, though the absent trailing of his fingers over my calf quickly remedied that.

"I wanted a sure fire way to guarantee silence." The answer was delivered with a devastating smile, all dimples and white teeth. I forced a frown and nudged his leg with my foot.

"Lies. You just didn't want to tell me why you have that movie."

"That too. As well as the fact that I just plain wanted to. I have for a while." Another smile and a gentle squeeze on my leg and Sam gently lifted my legs from his lap and stood, quickly gathering the remnants of our dinner. "I'm gonna clean up and head to bed, it's been a long day." He disappeared into the kitchen and I faintly heard the sound of dishes being arranged in the dishwasher as I sat, staring rather blankly at the familiar scene on the television, Sam's words once again spinning around in my mind, mixed with more questions that I didn't know how to voice. A hand on my shoulder pulled me out of my slight reverie, and I tilted my head back to smile up at him. "G'night McNally, sweet dreams." A thumb brushed across my cheek before I could reply and he was gone, as I watched his back as he disappeared down the hallway, not looking away until the bedroom door closed.

Physically shaking my head in an attempt to try and clear my head, I quickly shut off both the TV and DVD player before heading upstairs, easily navigating my way in the dark, the house literally becoming like a second home to me over the last few months. I moved on autopilot, playing the evening over and over again in my mind as I undressed and got in the shower. The water was warm and it felt incredible to literally wash away some of the stresses of the day, though I was far from tired despite the fact that I should be. My mind was on overdrive as I attempted to process what had happened just a few minutes ago.

I couldn't begin to explain it, not to myself and certainly not to anyone else, but it felt, for an instant like things were… right. I sounded beyond hokey, even to myself and I could just picture Gail's patented 'You're fucking insane' glare, complete with eye roll, and pithy, blatantly honest comment and the thought made me laugh aloud. Had it not been nearly two in the morning, I would have called her simply for that reason. As it was though, I focused instead on drying off and quickly lotioning before pulling yet another in a seemingly endless string of pilfered shirts over my head. Just as with my first night here, a clean, perfectly folded t-shirt always sat atop the dresser whenever I stayed the night. The thought behind the simple gesture never failed to make me smile, and I could feel my lips curling up even now, around my toothbrush. Finishing my nighttime routine, I gathered my discarded clothes and headed back to the spare room, depositing them in my bag and sitting on the edge of the bed. I should sleep, I really should. Aside from my brief nap, I had been awake for very near 24 hours but my mind was spinning far too fast for me to even begin to relax.

Standing abruptly, I dropped my duffle to the floor and headed back to the door.

The house was dark and quiet, the only sound was the air conditioner overhead running, and I could feel the goose bumps forming, helped in no small part by my still wet hair soaking the back of my shirt as I descended the stairs on tiptoe. My journey held a strange sense of déjà vu as I headed through the living room and down the short hall to the closed door. No light peeked out from under it and I paused for a moment, my hand only inches from the door, for fear of waking him if he was somehow already asleep. Swallowing thickly, I brushed the thought aside and tapped my fist softly against the door, the soft knock echoing in the silence.

I waited and listened, though I'm not sure for what, it isn't like bare feet on hardwood make a lot of noise, counting in my head, the same way my mother had taught me on one of the few times we had played hide and seek. 'One steamboat, two steamboat, three steamboat.' Nothing. No shuffling feet or a muttered 'come in', just more silence. I was unreasonably disappointed and just about to turn away when the door swung open and I was face to face with Sam. The seldom seen glasses were perched on his nose and he was bare chested, his dark hair slightly mussed, and I could smell the combination of spice and mint that I had somehow come to associate with him and only him and it was almost intoxicating.

"McNally are you-" His words were cut off this time as I almost jumped forward, my arms wrapping around his neck as I pressed my lips to his.


	10. Promise Not To Stop When I Say When

**What I own: A dozen notebooks filled with starts and scraps of stories, the first two seasons of Veronica Mars on DVD and A Glee themed 'Music is my life' messenger bag that I carry to work with me every day because I am a functioning adult.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. I just play with them a little, maybe get them dirty before returning them to their proper places. My broke ass isn't making a thing off of this. **

**Author's Note: Y'all. You are SERIOUSLY blowing my mind here. The alerts, tweets and reviews just… I fangirl over you, every single one. I'm in absolute awe. Okay, here we go…There is a reason this is rated M so if you can't vote or buy smokes in your state, you shouldn't be reading this either. This chapter was SO HARD for me to write, I am still having doubts even now but I know if I don't post it, I won't. It has been AGES since I have written a lemon, and I am nervous as all get out, for reals and I REALLY hope it lives up to your expectations… I think I just need a lemon refresher course. Do they offer those? Cause I wanna sign up. Anyway, I really hope y'all enjoy. Reviews, as always, will be rewarded with sneak peeks of the next chapter and my undying love. Questions, comments or musical suggestions? Find me on twitter, I love to chat. Without further ado, here we go!**

Sam's small noise of surprise was muffled against my lips and I as I felt him stiffen, I almost backed away, a moment of fear and doubt flashing through my mind. It was gone the instant I felt his lips move against mine, the same time an arm wrapped around my waist and tugged me tightly against him. He was impossibly warm, and I could feel nothing but HIM; the heat of his body radiating through the soft cotton of my borrowed shirt, his muscular chest pressed against my own and then the almost feather-light brush of a tongue over my lip, a silent request for entrance which I quickly and eagerly obliged. My head spun as I lost myself in this kiss, in this moment, in him, any sense of fear or trepidation long forgotten.

I can't hide my whimper as Sam's hand trails up my back and tangles in my hair, effectively holding me in place, as though I would move, if I could. A last, almost reverent brush of his lips against mine, and I felt Sam pull back, though not away and pouted almost instinctively at the loss of contact. Blinking my eyes open, I meet Sam's gaze, his eyes darker than usual behind his glasses, a small smile pulling at his lips, brow raised in silent question.

"I didn't say goodnight." My words were spontaneous, falling from my lips without a thought and earning me a chuckle that I could feel reverberating deep in his chest. I watched as his smile widened just before he leaned down, his breath warm against my ear.

"Goodnight implies you're leaving. You're not leaving, are you McNally?" The words were low and husky, punctuated with a light kiss to the sensitive skin of my neck which quite literally made my knees weak.

My vocal abilities had, once again, ceased to function, and I shook my head mutely, swallowing thickly before muttering a single word into the silence. "No."

He slowly untangled his hand from my hair, skimming it almost teasingly to rest on my lower back before applying the lightest pressure to guide me into his room. The door shut behind me with a soft click and I felt Sam step up behind me, one hand resting on my hip as the other gently brushed my hair over my shoulder, his fingers trailing over the now exposed skin of my neck, followed by his lips.

I clenched my hands at my sides, my breath catching at gentle touch. The hand on my hip squeezed lightly and pulled me back, flush against him, and I could feel his warmth along my back, the evidence of his arousal pressing into my lower back, and my breath left my lips in a soft gasp which was not lost on him as he chuckled against my skin.

"You okay there McNally?" The words were teasing and his voice deep and husky as the hand that was resting on my hip slipped just a bit lower and under the hem of my shirt and trailed up my thigh, tugging the soft cotton with him as his fingers lightly trailed over my long-neglected torso.

I could do nothing but nod mutely as the cool air of the room hit my increasingly bare skin. Sam's lips moved from my neck for just an instant as he pulled the shirt over my head, tossing it aside as my hair fell back over my shoulders.

"Much better." I shivered, both at the sudden cold and the low voice in my ear, the words punctuated with a tiny nip to the sensitive flesh just below my ear, my nipples pebbling almost painfully. My eyes closed instinctively and I leaned back just slightly, reveling in the feel of his bare skin against mine. The sprinkling of hair on his chest was soft and almost tickled my back as rough fingertips swirled over my ribs. I wriggled just a bit at the sensation, shifting backwards just a smidgen, the small groan in my ear a noticeable slip in the almost inhuman control that my partner seemed to constantly have over his emotions. The sound encouraged me and I turned in his grasp, twining my arms tightly around his neck and hopping up to wrap my legs around his waist with a grin.

Sam's eyes shone darkly even in the dim moonlight peeking in through the blinds and his large hands dropped to grasp the back of my thighs as I peppered tiny, light kisses over his jaw and neck. His movement is sure and smooth as he crosses the room in only a few strides, kneeling before carefully laying me down on his bed. I reluctantly let go of him as he stood back up, a rakish smile playing on his lips as he watched me. My cheeks flushed despite myself and I dropped my gaze keeping my hands by my sides. Sam's low laugh seemed to echo through the room, and my heart thudded in my chest as he pushed the light cotton pajama pants to the floor. I had seen my partner in various states of undress before, starting with my very first day on the job, but nothing, no glimpses in the locker room, no accidental opening of a door could have prepared me for this moment. My throat went dry as I took him in, my eyes roaming over his now completely bare form, unable to pull my eyes away. Jesus Christ. He was beautiful.

"You're staring McNally." His words are playful, but his voice is husky with need and what seems like desire.

"So are you, Sir." I couldn't fight the tremor in my words, nor did I try. I could feel his eyes wandering slowly over my nearly naked body, and I squirmed just slightly under his intense gaze. I could see the smile on his face, his eyes almost hungry as he stepped to the side of the bed, laying on his side beside me, head propped on one hand as the other skimmed down the length of my torso, strong fingers just barely brushing along my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I squirmed in response, my long neglected body reacting instantly to his touch as his fingers drifted slightly lower, brushing over the now damp cotton at the apex of my thighs and pulling a soft moan from my lips, my hips shifting upward into his touch almost of their own accord.

"Eager." The word was almost a taunt as his fingers trailed back over the fabric, earning a whimper this time.

"It's been a- a while." I wasn't sure how I found the words to actually speak, my throat was dry and my mind spun with a heady mixture of desire and need, my fingers twisting in the duvet beneath me as I blinked open my eyes.

"How long?" Sam's words were quiet, his voice laced with genuine curiosity as he kept teasingly running his fingers over the increasingly wet and frankly frustrating material between my legs.

I shifted my hips in response to the question, aching for more contact, needing to feel more of the fingers that were so blatantly teasing me. In lieu of an answer, I pressed my thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the insane pressure that was building already.

Sam had barely touched me and I was ready to fall apart, the need for him greater than any that I could ever recall before.

"How. Long?" His warm breath ghosted along my ear as he repeated his question, his hand stilling.

Any sense of embarrassment or shame that I may have had had vanished, long since replaced by sheer desire.

"A year." My voice is raspy with need and tinged with frustration as I meet his gaze.

His eyes flash with…. Something and his lips turn into a slight frown as he leans forward and brushes a small kiss across my cheek, his fingers slipping under my panties and barely brushing across my wet folds, earning a strangled cry as my hips buck up into his hand, aching for more.

"Jesus, sweetheart." Sam's words are barely a whisper in my ear as his fingers continued their exploration, first one than a second finger slowly sliding into me. My eyes slam shut and I bite my lip between my teeth to keep back the cry that threats to fall from my lips as my hips buck upwards against his hand, sheer pleasure sending a shiver racing down my spine. His fingers barely moved at first, the gentle ministrations so light that I almost couldn't feel them, ever so slightly shifting in and out, each motion pulling a soft gasp from my lips. Sam's breath is warm against my ear and I can almost feel his smile as his thumb brushes ever so lightly over my clit. My cry is wanton and filled with pure need and I blindly grasp for Sam's wrist to halt his movements, a single word slipping from my lips.

"Please…" My voice is barely a whisper, and catches in my throat as his hand slips, each easy movement just a bit harder than the last, sending ripples of pleasure through me.

"Please what Andy?" Sam's voice is quiet and soft, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, his use of my first name adding more fuel to the fire that burned within me.

"I- need- I-" The words are fragmented as I struggle to make sense, desire quickly overtaking me, rationale and any possible semblance of coherent thought long gone. "You, I-please." The final word is a plea and I force my eyes open to meet Sam's dark gaze.

"You don't need to beg." Each word is punctuated by a tender kiss along my jaw and I can't hide my whimper of disappointment as his fingers slip out from beneath the now useless cotton. The bed shifts and I feel Sam's fingers hook under my panties on either hip and slowly pull them down the length of my legs, effectively removing the last barrier between us. He slid back up my body, fingers trailing up my sides and slipped a knee in between my own effectively spreading my legs and wrapping one arm under me to press against my back, pulling me almost impossibly close. My hand slip around his neck seemingly of their own accord as I opened my eyes, meeting his dark gaze as I feel him line up with my entrance, teasing me one, two, three times before stilling. A small nod is all it takes he pushes forward, entering me in one hard thrust, both of us crying out as our hips meet. Once he is finally inside, everything is still for a moment, there is no movement, no breathing, no words, nothing as we adjust to being so very close to each other. He intoxicates me, overwhelming all of my senses as I wrap my legs, once again, around him, a slight shift of my hips all the invitation that is needed as we begin to move together.

Our movements are frenzied and needy, what seems like years of pent up attraction and desire finally, finally, finally being acted upon. A thin sheen of perspiration forms as we lose ourselves in each other, any and all lines that had once existed were now blurred.

Sam, the same calm, controlled man that I trusted with my life on a daily basis, was whispering filthy, pretty words into my ear, the stubble on his jaw stinging just so right against my skin as my nails dug into his shoulders.

I finally felt myself teetering on the edge, and my breath quickened as I tightened around him, aching for release as I sought out his lips with my own.

"Andy." Sam moaned my name and that was it. I broke, ecstasy washing over me, as he bit down on his lip and groaned. I thrust my hips up one last time and felt him shudder, exploding inside me, and I cried out his name before dropping back to the sheets, too spent to do anything but move and bask in the emotions that were coursing through my swimming head. I closed my eyes and smiled softly as Sam rained small, tender kisses over my face and neck, his warm, weight solid and comforting against me.

My breath is still ragged, my chest heaving with exertion as I opened my eyes, meeting Sam's gaze immediately, his smile bright. My cheeks were flushed, head spinning as I started to come down from the high of my climax, limbs becoming heavy as they fell back to the bed, my eyes never dropping from Sam's even as I whimper in loss as he slips out of me.

Rolling onto his back, Sam's familiar, strong arms encircle me and pull me tightly against him and I curl eagerly into his side, his hand raking through my tangled hair as I rest my head on his shoulder, tugging the blanket over our entwined bodies.

"Sam, I-" My words are cut off, for a second time tonight, by his lips pressing against mine in a soft, almost achingly tender kiss.

"Sleep McNally." Sam's words are whispered against my lips and I nod almost imperceptibly as my eyes drift closed and I fall into a peaceful, easy sleep in his arms.


	11. When We Kiss They're Perfectly Aligned

**What I own: Cybergeddon, Stick It and Wide Awake on DVD, several retro and totally inappropriate for work dresses that I wear exclusively TO work and four pairs of yoga pants that I wear at all other times.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. For real, they aren't mine. I just like playing in the amazing sandbox, I promise my poor ass will clean them up when I am done. This little tale, however, is all mine.**

**Author's Note: Y'all. Y'ALL. I cannot with you. I am just… astounded by the response to this story. All the reviews, support, alerts and kind words are just… yeah. I swear I have the greatest readers in the world, ever. I just want to bake you all some brownies and take you to Starbucks. I can't even begin to thank you all enough. The fact that not only are you all taking your precious time ti read my words, but that you enjoy them? AND YOU TELL ME THAT? It makes me grin like a movie star. ANYWAY, there is time for gushing later, and it WILL HAPPEN. So, I just want to clarify that I am NOT from, nor have I ever been to Toronto, or Canada at all for that matter, not including that time my school bus got lost and we ended up there. Almost everything is artistic license, but I at least try and make it a little realistic, if I have any glaring inaccuracies, PLEASE feel free to point them out, I love some creative criticism. This chapter has yet to be beta'd, so all the mistakes are mine, mine, mine. Janeycakes and her red pen of amazing cleans those up for me. As always, reviews are rewarded with sneak peeks and LOTS of babble. Questions? Comments? Can you name the songs I have taken my chapter titles from? Hit me up on Twitter and we can chat! Happy reading, I hope you enjoy!**

I squeezed my eyes closed against the bright sun that filtered through the blinds, piercing the thin veil of sleep that I stubbornly clung to in vain, despite my bladder being very insistent that I get up right now. Huffing sleepily, I tossed the blankets back and sleepily rolled towards the side of the bed only to have a pair of strong hands close around my waist and pull me back, flush against a now very, very familiar body. Sam's arms wrapped tightly around my torso and his nose ran along the length of my neck, early morning stubble scratching against my neck.

"Stay." His voice was thick and husky with sleep, the word almost whispered against my skin and I melted, just a little bit right then.

"I'll be right back, I just need to pee." The soft grunt of displeasure my answer received was almost enough to keep me in bed, but not quite. A smile pulled at my lips as I reluctantly wiggled out of his embrace and stood, on wobbly legs, to head towards the bathroom. My muscles protested the activity with every step, the very pleasant ache bringing with it memories of the night before, and a smile pulled at my lips even as I struggled to make heads or tails of what was going on.

Shutting the door with a soft click behind me, I quickly went about a very abbreviated version of my morning routine, settling for splashing some water on my face and swishing some mouthwash in lieu of brushing my teeth, seeing as all of my actual toiletries were upstairs. My hair was an absolute mess, between the night's activities and falling asleep with it wet, the dark strands stuck out every which way, hanging down my bare back in a riot of tangles I didn't have the patience to deal with right now.

As satisfied as I was going to get, I opened the door and paused in the doorway, the sight before me causing my heart to skip a beat and heat to flush into my cheeks. Sam lay across the bed on his stomach, his head turned towards my recently vacated spot. The dark sheets stopped just short of his hips and the morning sun shined off of tanned skin, playing off of the sculpted muscles of his back, an almost shocking contrast to his face, which was possibly more relaxed than I had ever seen it. He looked almost ridiculously young and shockingly beautiful in this moment and I mentally kicked myself for not having noticed it sooner.

My smile is soft as I tiptoe back to the bed, sliding between the sheets and snuggling up to Sam's warm body, his arms almost instantly wrapping around my waist as his nose nuzzled over my neck, lips brushing over my pulse point in a sweet kiss.

"My McNally." The endearment was mumbled against my skin and I knew that Sam was still at least half asleep as he spoke but it still sent a small thrill down my spine and I felt my smile grow despite the small flash of panic at what this could mean.

This... thing with Sam, whatever it was, was all so very new, every aspect of it. It felt oddly right, in a way that things with Preston never had, no matter how much I had wished that they did. Weather it was from the closeness and trust that was intrinsic with the years we had spent partners and, after a bit of an initial bumpy start, friends or whether it was from something more, I didn't know.

I lay there, more comfortable that I could remember, in Sam's arms, the events of not only last night but of the weeks, months and even years prior, small things and drastic events filtering through my mind on a near continuous loop. The moments that made up our story, that brought us to where we were right now.

"McNallllly" My name was drawn out in a husky whisper, and I stifled the laugh that threatened to erupt as Sam's fingers swirled over my highly ticklish ribs, squirming slightly in a futile attempt to get away from them. It was a losing battle, however, as his arms just tightened and held me firmly in place.

"That tickles you know." I tried to feign haughtiness but it was pointless as soon as I heard the low groan from the man behind me and felt a familiar twitch against my backside.

"Well that does far more than tickle." Sam's hand ghosted down to my hip, his fingertips ever so lightly dancing along the sensitive skin. It took all my strength to keep from shifting into his touch.

"Play nice Sam, it's early and I'm-" I paused for a moment, weighing my words carefully, "Out of practice."

He placed a kiss on the back of my head with a low chuckle and rested his hand flat against my hip, ceasing the lovely patterns he had been tracing.

"It's eleven McNally, it is far from early. And you know what they say about that don't you?"

"They say a lot of things, which one exactly?" I knew exactly what he was getting at but I couldn't help but tease him at least a little.

"Practice makes perfect." His words were whispered into my ear, low and inviting, as his hand slipped just a bit further down my thigh. "Though if I recall correctly, and I may not be in my old age, you are pretty perfect despite being out of practice."

My cheeks flushed and I shook my head just slightly, my hips tilting up into Sam's hand.

"About last night Sam..." I had to swallow rapidly to get the words out without a tremble and even then, they trailed off with a gasp as the man in questions lips trailed along my neck.

"We can talk about it when we wake up McNally." The words left little room for discussion, though any possible hope for coherent speech dissipated as soon as Sam's hand slipped between my thighs.

Almost two hours and a very leisurely and somewhat counterproductive shower later, I sat perched on Sam's kitchen counter, wearing yesterday's dress and bare feet, watching him fix lunch as I nibbled on strawberries straight from the container. It was quickly becoming a favorite pastime for me, and I wondered, not for the first time how I had never noticed how ridiculously sexy the man was, barefoot and working whatever culinary magic he had decided on his ease and experience evident with almost every move he made.

"I can hear you thinking McNally." I could almost hear the smile in Sam's voice, although he didn't look up from the pot he was stirring as he spoke.

"I like watching you cook is all. You are very good with your hands." The double entendre was lost on me for a moment until he turned his head, a familiar cocky grin playing on his lips and I swatted his bicep playfully as I felt heat rush into my cheeks.

"You know what I meant!" Another glance in to the pot and Sam quickly flipped of the stove and stepped into the space between my legs, my skirt riding just slightly up my thighs. The counter more than made up for our height difference and he looked up at me, his hand resting lightly on my hips.

"Of course I know what you meant, McNally, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear you say it."

Giving Sam an incredulous look, I roll my eyes and toss my hair back behind my shoulders.

"Want to hear me say what? That you are good with your hands? I'm in awe of your skills? You leave me speechless?" My grin widens with every question, as does Sam's.

"Well, that's a start, please continue." Laughing, I kiss his cheek and hop off the counter, sidestepping his grasp.

"I'll continue later, right now you promised me food and then I seem to recall a promise to take me to the hospital..." The discussion from last night seemed like forever ago, but I knew that he had not forgotten it, nor had I, despite everything that had transpired in the last twelve hours. My evasion received a low but good-natured grumble and within moments a bowl of tortilla soup was set in my hands.

"Eat up McNally, places to go, people to see and a list to finish." Laughing, I shook my head and followed Sam to the table, my stomach growling in hunger.

Lunch was, to no surprise, delicious and I refused to let Sam clean up, despite his arguments of my being a guest. Making quick work of packing up leftovers and washing dishes, eschewing the dishwasher in favor of washing by hand and citing the nostalgia factor. I hummed quietly as I worked, singing the odd word here or there as I moved with a surprising ease around the kitchen, Sam having taken a seat on the bench, watched me as I worked. I could feel his eyes on me, following me here and there but he said nothing, though a small grin played across his face. Shelving the last glass, I turned and faced him, arms crossed and brow raised in feigned indignation.

"Am I really that interesting?" The tile floor was cool under my bare feet as I crossed the kitchen, perching on Sam's knees with a smile.

"You are." The answer was brief and sincere and my heart may have skipped a beat as he flashed a bright smile, complete with dimples, and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

"You... Come on, we have to get going." I made no move to get up however, staying put and running my fingers along Sam's now clean-shaven jaw. I had sat on the bathroom counter, wrapped in a towel with dripping wet hair and watched the process, slightly fascinated.

"Yeah, I can tell that you are in a huge hurry, McNally." His eyes danced with mirth and humor laced his words as he rested a hand on my waist, his thumb trailing lazily over my ribs, earning a laugh and a squirm. Before I jumped up, shaking my head and snagging his keys off of the counter.

"Come on, I made a promise and I intend to keep it." Shaking the stolen keys, I dashed through the living room, grabbing my sandals on the way by and headed outside into the bright sunshine of the day, Sam's muttered curses following me out the open door.


	12. And I Can't let Go Of Your Hand

**What I own: An odd, Alice in Wonderland inspired lunch container, two bottles of 'I'm Not Really a Waitress' nail polish and at least 20 red lipsticks.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. STILL not mine. I know. I KNOW. I'm just playing with them, I'll clean them up when I'm all done, I promise.**

**Author's Note: First thing. This is STILL rated M so unless you can buy smokes and vote where you are from, please do be finding something else to read. Okay, boring stuff over. Y'all. Wow. So, I love every single one of you. I really, REALLY do. The encouragement and sheer kindness of everyone that I have been lucky enough to chat with in this fandom… you all blow me away, all the time. I'm so overjoyed that y'all are enjoying this rambling little tale of mine because I LOVE writing it and the fact that, I think, that comes through in the words… that is just… yeah. I'm not always so good with the speaking but thank you. ANYWAY. This hasn't been beta'd yet, because I insist on keeping Janeycakes busy FOR 18 YEARS and keep sending her chapters. All mistakes and twisty, shift tense are mine. She and her red test of awesomeness will make them pretty. Reviews, as always, will be rewarded with sneak peeks of the upcoming chapter and a VAST amount of babble. They make me grin like a movie star. Happy reading folks, I hope you enjoy!**

The ride to the hospital was quick, the windows in the truck rolled down despite the still oppressive heat and humidity, the movement bringing an almost cool breeze into the cab of the truck. Sam was quiet, as usual, and I sat quietly, my knee bouncing nervously for the duration as I ran over the events of yesterday yet again, the little girl's face when I had found her in the park still haunting me.

"McNally." Sam's voice was low and laced with concern, his hand on my bare shoulder pulling me out of my thoughts and I twisted in my seat to face him, realizing after the fact that we had arrived at our destination.

"Sorry, I was just... yeah." I could feel my cheeks tinge with color as Sam gently took my face in his hands and placed a light, sweet kiss against my lips.

"Don't over think it McNally." A soft brush of a thumb over my heated cheek and he was pulling away, unbuckling his belt and climbing out of the truck. I can't hide my smile as I follow him, scrambling to buckle my sandals before hopping down and nearly running to catch up to his side, my hand slipping into his almost instinctively as we headed to the main entrance of the hospital.

By the time we reached the pediatric floor, we had taken every twist and turn possible, and been interrogated by no less than three nurses about who we were and where we were going. Understandable of course but frustrating none the less.

We stood at the nurses' station, explaining for the fourth time who we were and who exactly we were there to see, which was no easy feat when you didn't know the patients name. My exasperation must have been obvious as I felt Sam's hand on my lower back, resting reassuringly for a moment before rubbing small, relaxing circles. The gentle gesture grounded me almost immediately and I took a deep breath, centering my thoughts before addressing the nurse again, my voice quiet.

"I know what the laws are, believe me. But I brought her in yesterday and promised her I would come back. She doesn't have anyone, at least she didn't yesterday. I know you know who she is, and I know you can neither confirm nor deny that she is a patient here but please, please if she is still here can you at least tell her that-"

"Andy, you came back." My words to the obviously exasperated nurse were cut off by a small voice from behind me, one that brought a smile to my face, although the surprise and almost disbelief that tinged the words made my heart sink. I hid my worry as best as I could before turning around, Sam's hand dropping from my back. She was sitting in a wheelchair, the IV still in her tiny hand as she looked up at me a smile on her cherubic face.

"She hasn't said a word to anyone since she came up, not even her name." The nurse at the desk's words were almost a whisper as she addressed Sam, who I could almost guarantee just shrugged.

I crossed the few steps to the heart achingly tiny wheelchair and crouched down, getting as close to eye-level as I could with my little friend.

"Of course I did, I promised I would, didn't I?" The smile I received in return was almost blinding, and her brown curls bobbed as she nodded.

"You did but I wasn't sure you would come. Mama said she would come back an' she didn't."

I was barely able to hide my frown, wincing at the words that were said with the honesty and simplicity that only a child could have.

"I know, I know and I'm sorry." I carefully run my hand over the curls on her small head and fight tears as I search for the right words. "Why don't you go back to your room and I'll come right down, okay?" I kept the words as light as I could, giving a small smile when she nodded in agreement.

"Okay, you promise you'll come?" Her eyes were wide and shiny, filled with uncertainty.

"Of course. I pinky promise." Holding out my hand, I extended my pinky in the air, wiggling it her in a single digit wave. Her smile was bright but didn't quite meet her eyes as she wrapped the small finger from her non-IV'd hand around mine, holding it as tight as she could.

"Okay. See you in a minute." With that, the aide behind the wheelchair gave a small smile and backed up heading down the brightly painted hall. Tears filled my eyes as I rose, my muscles protesting the prolonged movement. A few steps to the nurses' station and Sam's hand was once again resting on my back. The simple gesture meant so much even though no words were spoken.

"She… she hasn't spoken to anyone." The bright pink scrub clad nurse who had, only a few minutes ago been reassuring us that this girl didn't even exist, was glancing at me like I had two heads.

"I found her yesterday." My words were brief, no other explanation was needed and I saw recognition dawn in the other woman's eyes as she nodded mutely, grasping the tablet that was in her hands, glancing between it and Sam and I, obviously struggling with what she was about to say.

"Psych came down for a consult and social services has been called again. Nobody knows anything about her mother, we don't even know her name yet." The nurse, Ella according to her name badge, trailed off with a small shrug.

"I'll see what I can find out. Maybe get a name at least. Something." I received a small nod in thanks before Ella turned away, glancing back at the item in her hands, her fingers moving rapidly over the screen. Glancing up at Sam, I saw the concern in his eyes and returned my hand back into his with a light squeeze. "You're coming too."

"McNally, I don't think-"His voice was low, and held a hint of hesitation. Frowning, I gently pulled him away from the desk, ducking in a small alcove in a vain attempt at privacy.

"Then don't think. I need you." My words were whispered, almost a plea as squeezed his hands, blinking back tears. "I don't know if I can go in there and pretend everything is okay and just question that little girl by myself. She's alone, Sam, completely and totally. I just… I need you there. Please." The final word is a barely whispered plea and my voice cracks as I fight a sob and drop his hand, closing the small distance between us with a single step and wrapping my arms around him, my head resting on his shoulder. His arms instantly tightened around me, and his lips pressed gently against my head.

"I'll be there McNally, however you need me. Always." The words were little more than a whisper but they could not have meant more if they were shouted from the rooftops.

Tipping my head back, I can't help but smile as I meet Sam's eyes searching their depths and finding nothing but trust. Rising up on my tiptoes, I place brush a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling against them as his hand gently caresses my cheek. My thank you remains unspoken, verbally at least, but it isn't necessary, the moment of calm silence between us speaking volumes in just an instant.

We stood there, tucked away in out tiny and just held each other for a moment and the world faded away. We pulled strength from each other, each giving and taking in an unspoken arrangement, the trust that had become so intrinsic over the years now bolstered with something more, though I was still afraid to put words to whatever it was, not just yet. A last, gentle squeeze and a flash of that smile that I had grown to love and Sam pulled back, gently taking my hand and stepping back out into the hallway.

"C'mon McNally, she needs you."


	13. You Follow Her Laughter

**What I own: A lovely mug with watercolor flowers on it, ten varieties of tea and three copies of Juno on DVD**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. I just play with them. I promise to return them when I am done.**

**Author's Note: Wow y'all. You folks just… amaze me, for real. All your support and reviews and alerts and chats on twitter… I am astounded and touched at every single one. I am so sorry this took so long to get out to y'all, between work and being sick, time has gotten away from me. BUT it is here, finally. As usual, it is unbeta'd because I can't bring myself to be patient, so all the mistakes and shifty grammar are mine and mine alone. Janeycakes takes care of that and makes my words all kinds of shiny. Okay, so here we go… I hope y'all enjoy this next little chapter, as always reviews make me grin like a movie star and are rewarded with sneak peeks and copious babble. Enjoy!**

I gave the departing nurse a smile as I slipped into the room, Sam right behind me. It was cheery, for a hospital room, bright flowers panted on the walls, colorful geometric shapes on the curtain separating the two beds, the other of which was empty, and soft looking pink blankets on both beds. Despite all of the attempts, beneath it all, it was still a hospital room and a child sized one at that. The monitors beeped, machines whirred and the vile scent of hand sanitizer mixed with that astringent disinfectant that was only found in hospitals.

Despite it though, despite everything, as soon as I entered the room, the smile on the occupant of the small bed was nearly blinding and I couldn't help but respond in kind. Sam's hand rested gently on my back as I moved to sit in the chair that was perched by the bed, only receive a quick shake of a head.

"No Andy, you has to sit with me." She spoke with all the conviction her small frame could muster and gave the bed a pat with her un-IV'd hand. There was no way I could argue with that and so I perched carefully on the edge of the bed, smoothing my skirt over my thighs.

"Is you still a police even though you aren't in your uniform?" The question was asked with all the sincerity in the world, my pint-sized companions eyes wide as she took in my decidedly un-police like attire, her skeptical gaze falling on Sam.

"I am. I'm always a police officer, no matter what." Grinning conspiratorially, I leaned forward and spoke in an exaggerated whisper, pointing playfully at Sam as he stood behind me. "He's my partner and he taught me how to be a police officer. He makes sure I don't get in trouble, but sometimes I do anyway. "The words were truer than I'm sure the little girl could even imagine, flashes of moments where Sam had, quite literally saved me racing through my head. Pursing her lips into a tiny pink bow, the miniature brunette, her hair falling in almost perfect ringlets down her back, wriggled out from under her blanket and squirmed over to the edge of the bed, leaning over the side rail and motioning for Sam to move closer, which he did, with a signature Sam Swarek smile, complete with dimples. My small friend's eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open for a moment. It wasn't an unusual response to him, but seeing it play out in such a tiny person was vastly preferable to the shoplifters and hookers that I usually witnessed.

"What's your name?" It took a moment for her to speak, and her hand grasped the side rail of the bed even as I rested a hand on her shoulder, her eyes glued to my partner who leaned in closer.

"My name is Sam." His voice was quiet and gentle, his attention focused entirely on the little girl in front of him.

"My names Grace Graham. Like the cracker." I blinked in surprise at how easily she spoke, as though it was nothing to finally reveal that vital bit of information, and she waved Sam closer. He complied, of course, his gaze darting to mine for just a moment before he had a lapful of small child.

"Thank you for teaching Andy how to be a police and keeping her out of trouble. You keepted her safe and she kept me safe." The words were delivered with a small nod before she settled on Sam's lap and glanced back up at me, eyes wide and the absolute picture of innocence.

Her tiny nose wrinkled in distaste and she glared at the IV that was currently restricting her movement and I moved the tubing behind the bed to give her at least a little bit more motion.

"You are very welcome Miss Grace. Andy keeps me safe too, it's what we do. "The words, as simple as they were, were delivered with a smile and a wink over Grace's head that brought a flush of color to my cheeks,

A fact that did not go unseen by both pairs of dark eyes of the two sitting across from me.

"He's right Grace, it is what we do. You have to protect your partner." The message, though the undertones went over the small girls head, was clear and she nodded knowingly.

"Your cheeks are pink Andy. Are you hot? Mama always said when my cheeks were pink I had fever." Grace's words were delivered with absolute innocence, her big eyes fixed on my face as she stretched out to brush my face with her little hand. Sam, however, was anything but, not even attempting to cover up his chuckle, eyes twinkling with mirth. Narrowing my eyes just a bit, I couldn't stop my smile as tiny, warm fingers touched my cheek.

"No Grace, I'm not sick, I promise. I just…" My words trailed off as I searched in vain for some way to explain why I had blushed. Fortunately, I was rescued from that predicament by the appearance of two more people as they entered the room. The doctor entered the room first, his white coat and bright green scrubs seemingly at odds with his very youthful face. He hardly looked old enough to be out of high school, much less medical school. He wasn't what had caught my attention however, it was the grey suited woman behind him that had my mouth closing as I fought not to stare, turning my attention back to Grace as she maintained her perch on Sam's lap, her hand dropping from my face as she eyed the visitors skeptically, her little mouth snapping shut.

The doctor looked more than a bit surprised at our presence, his face doing little to disguise that fact as he leaned against the foot of the bed, eyes on Grace."

"How are you doing today? Are you feeling any better?" His words were gentle and voice soft, but Grace's mouth had already slammed shut and was visibly curled up on Sam's lap, his arms wrapping around her protectively, his face a mask of stony indifference although I could see the care in his eyes.

My eyes darted between the doctor and Grace and I leaned over, my voice as quiet as I could make it.

"You can talk to them you know, they just want to help you." I took her little hand in mine and gave her the most reassuring smile I could muster, which was received with a slow shake of her head, a quivering lip and eyes that welled with tears, almost immediately breaking my heart.

"Can I speak to you outside?" The woman's voice was hesitant, confusion tinging her tone as she looked between Sam, Grace and I. I nodded in lieu of an answer and slipped off the bed and Grace's hand tightened immediately around mine. Meeting Sam's eyes, he gave an almost imperceptible nod and I crouched down beside the chair they were both sitting in.

"I need to just talk to them for a minute, okay? Sam will stay with you and I'll be right back, I promise okay? I promise." I brushed a silky curl behind her ear as I spoke and Grace gave a small nod, releasing her death grip on my hand as I stood up and headed for the door, casting a glance back over my shoulder as I followed both the doctor and the other woman out of the room.

The walk down the hall was silent, and I shivered in the artificially chilled air as I watched the doctor swipe his badge over the sensor, pulling open the door of the small alcove Sam and I had stood in just a few minutes before. I sat down at the small table as my companions took up residence in two of the other three chairs.

"She spoke to you." The doctor, Dean Reed, his name tag said, seemed both skeptical and awed as he stared at me. "She wouldn't speak to anyone, not a word since she came in. Not me, none of my nurses, Not Mrs. Braddock." He gestured towards the grey suited woman who gave a tight smile and bowed her head slightly. "Not even her name. Can I ask how you did that?" He seemed genuinely interested and I knotted my fingers together in my lap before I spoke, struggling to keep my voice even.

"My partner and I found her in the park yesterday, I stayed with her in the ER last night, I just… I talked to her, told her stories while she lay there. I don't really know. She must trust us." It was true, I really didn't know how or why Grace had chosen to speak to Sam and I but she had and I would guard that with everything that I was. I hadn't even know the girl for 24 hours and I was already fiercely protective of her.

"Did she tell you anything Mrs. …" Doctor Reed trailed off awkwardly as he realized that I had still not introduced myself. Straightening in my chair, I swallowed thickly and gave the Doctor my entire attention.

"It's Miss McNally, Andy McNally but please call me Andy." The slight catch of breath from the woman seated to my right had not gone unnoticed and I fought to keep my gaze neutral as I answered the innocent yet unknowingly loaded question. "And yes, she did, though not much. Her name is Grace Graham. She said her mother had promised not to leave but she had anyway." Taking a chance I hazarded a glance at Mrs. Braddock, whose gaze was glued to the table. "I'll try and see if I can find anything else out but I can't make any promises. She isn't exactly bursting to talk about this. What happens if we don't find her mother?" The question is directed at the woman to my left and I meet her eyes for a moment, fighting to keep my expression neutral.

"It depends on what we can find out, if she has family anywhere they would be our next step." I could make out the notes she was scrawling on the yellow legal pad that sat in front of her and shook my head.

"And if you don't?" I refused to pull any punches and leveled my eyes at Mrs. Braddock, obviously concerned.

"If we don't… she goes into the system." The matter-of-fact delivery shook me to my core despite the slightly somber tone and I clenched my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I processed the words.

"That can't happen Claire." My voice is even, somehow, and I look at Doctor Reed with a small smile as I stand, ignoring the confusion that was plainly written across his face. "I'm going to go back and see what she has to say, if anything. Thank you doctor, Claire." I gave a curt nod before exiting the room, waiting to hear the door click shut behind me.

I headed a few steps down the hall, just until Grace's room came into view and leaned against the wall with a weary sigh. Of all the things that could happen, all the people that could have walked into my life, and now of all moments, it had to be her. Squeezing my eyes shut, I gently pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers in an attempt to ward off the headache that I could already feel forming.

Opening my eyes, I gazed through the glass window of the room just a few feet down the hall and blatantly ignored the small tug in my chest. They seemed deep in conversation, Grace was still curled up on Sam's lap, his large hand absently rubbing her back as he spoke. I couldn't hear them but I could see the smiles on both of their faces as he gazed down at her. Brushing my hair behind my ears I felt my lips tug up into a small smile as I watched the very sweet moment from my vantage point against the wall.

Sam glanced up and caught my gaze, as though he knew he was being watched, and gave me an absolutely devastating smile before leaning down to whisper in Grace's ear. The little girl nearly bounced as she twisted around to look at me, her smile blinding and her hands gesturing as emphatically as she could. I could nearly hear her squeal of delight through the glass as she said my name, waving me closer.

The small meeting was forgotten for the time being as I headed back down the hallway, unable to contain my smile. I could say it was a sense of duty that drew me to the little girl, but that would be a lie. It had somehow become so much more than that and I would do everything in my power to make sure she was okay and not allowed to slip through the cracks. A long pushed away image floated to mind, golden curls and pajamas with ballerinas on them, looking so peaceful and I shook my head. I wouldn't let her down, I couldn't.


	14. I Won't Push You Unless You Have A Net

**What I own: A University of Houston hoodie, the newest and most feels breaking MCR album and an ugly though ridiculously comfortable comforter.**

**What I don't: Rookie Blue. Nope, not mine. I just like to play in Tassie Cameron's sandbox. I promise my poor self with clean everyone up and return them when I am done. Maybe.**

**Author's Note: Hey y'all, I am so sorry this took so long to get to you. Between being sick as a dog and drugged up because of said sickness, I haven't really been able to string two words together, much less write anything decent. And y'all deserve more than just decent because YOU ARE AMAZING, EVERY ONE OF YOU. This was supposed to be lots longer, but I had to take said brain fuzz inducing medication. Marys your request will take place in the next chapter, pinky promise with whipped cream, sprinkles and cherries on top… though not really cause messy. (Although the idea is not a completely bad one. I could have some fun with that.) This is my second attempt at finishing this chapter off, the first one vanished as I tried to upload it because words hates me. I cannot even. Anyway! This is totally un beta'd, Janeycakes, my master beta extraordinaire, fixes all my shifty tenses and mistakes because she is amazing like that. All mistakes are mine, mine, mine. As always, reviews make me smile like a movie star and are rewarded with sneak peeks of the next chapter and ridiculous babble. Questions, comments and song suggestions are always welcome, come find me on twitter, I don't bite, I promise.**

The room was filled with giggles and the excited, if not entirely sensical chatter of my new pint sized friend, who stayed on Sam's lap for the duration of our visit. She still quieted as soon as anyone else came in the room, refusing to speak to both Dr. Reed and Claire, although she did give nurse Shay a small, shy smile when she came up from the ER to check in which was improvement in some way.

This tiny girl seemed to have us both mesmerized as she spoke, hand fluttering here and there, touching Sam's arm, brushing my hair out of my eyes, fiddling with the ribbons that I had slipped into my pocket the day before. I didn't hide my smile when she asked me if I could put them in her hair for her, and received on in kind from Sam as I knelt beside the chair they were both seated on.

"Did you want both of them in, or just one?" My voice was soft as I raked my fingers through the tangled mahogany curls that hung down her back, gently untangling them until they lay flat.

I couldn't see the expression on her face as she spoke but Sam's spoke volumes, a bright grin that made me thankful I wasn't standing or my knees may very well have gone weak.

"Just one, cause then you can have the other." The tears DID come this time and I was glad her back was to me as my vision misted over.

"That-that sounds perfect." My voice cracked as I spoke but I don't think my tiny companion was any wiser as she continued to prattle to my partner about her school, and her favorite color. I twisted her hair into a loose French braid, securing the end with a length of the purple ribbon.

"There we go sweet girl." The endearment slipped out before I could stop it and I mentally cursed myself as I rose and sat back on the edge of the bed.

"Is it pretty? Can you do yours the same way? Is it like a princess Mr. Sam?" The questions came rapid fire although I could see her try and hide a yawn.

Sam gave a low laugh and nodded at Grace who still had not left her spot on his lap. "Yes Grace, it is very pretty and you look just like a princess. Belle I think."

I somehow didn't laugh at his knowledge of Disney Princess, but filed the tidbit away for future use as I quickly plaited my own hair, pulling the tail of the braid over my shoulder and fastening the end with the other piece of ribbon.

"All set. We're matching now. What do you think?" Twisting around, I showed the hasty hairdo to Grace and Sam, by default, the former giving a soft gasp.

"You're like a princess too Andy!" The words were a bit softer than before, though no less excited, and I watched as she hid another yawn. "You has a dress and everything."

Laughing, I brushed a stray curl out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. "I do indeed. You seem to be getting tired Miss Grace, did you want to take a nap?"

Her eyes grew wide and she shook her head emphatically. "I'm not tired though, 'sides, if I nap than you and Mr. Sam will go away."

"That sounds like a plan. How bout this? You lay down and nap for just a little while and then Sam and I will come back after you wake up, is that okay?" My eyes darted between Sam and Grace, silently asking if it was okay. The small nod I received in return was all the answer I needed from Sam, and within moments I received a matching on from Grace. "Okay then, you get settled down and we will come back tonight, promise." I watched as Sam gently ran his hand over Grace's small back and her eyelids began to slowly droop, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Okay Andy. Promises that you'll come back?" The words were almost a whisper as Grace started to fall asleep in Sam's arms.

"I promise sweetie, we'll come back as soon as we can." It was true, we would. I couldn't bear the thought of this small girl left alone in this cold, noisy sterile place. No matter how cheerfully it was decorated, of how many people came in and out, she was still by herself for the duration.

"Kay." The word was expelled in a soft puff of air against Sam's shoulder as her eyes finally closed. I caught Sam's gaze and tilted my head towards the empty bed as I rose and turned down the sheets and blankets. I watched, oddly mesmerized as my partner stood, cradling the tiny girl in his arms, and lay her down on the bed so very gently, before tucking the blankets up under her chin. I hadn't ever seen him really interact with children before, not outside of a moment or two at work, and it was almost a shock to see how tender he was. I knew that he had both a niece and a nephew so it really shouldn't surprise me, but I still couldn't bring myself to look away from the oddly domestic scene in front of me.

His hand on my bare shoulder pulled me out of my reverie, and I felt my cheeks flush as I met Sam's dark eyes, watching as they twinkled with mirth. Tilting his head silently towards the door, I gave him a smile and exited the room as quietly as I could, his hand on my back as we headed into the hall, the door sliding shut behind us.

"She really is the sweetest thing." I took a last peek through the window at the sleeping child as we headed down the hallway. "I think-"

"Andrea." My words to Sam were cut off by Claire, whose presence I had managed to put out of my mind for a moment, as she stepped out from behind the desk, following us down the hall. I froze at the sound, stiffening beneath Sam's touch and we both turned.

"Yes?" My voice was colder than I had anticipated and I saw confusion flash across Sam's face before I returned my gaze to my mother.

"I just… my card, in case you find anything out." I took the small rectangle that she held out, accepting it with barely a glance before dropping it into my purse and retrieving one of my own.

"Likewise." The atmosphere between the two of us was chilly, to say the least, my own voice almost icy as I turned away and headed towards the elevators without another word.

The ride back to Sam's was brief and quiet, though not uncomfortably so. We had been through far too much together, knew each other too well and trusted each other enough that silence wasn't going to be an issue. Sam knew when to push, and when to hold back, now obviously being a time for the latter.

I stared blankly out the window watching the scenery as it passed, lost in my own thoughts. Everything seemed so… normal; children skipped rope on lush green grass, their peals of delighted laughter barely audible through the closed windows of the truck, a Golden Retriever fetched a tennis ball before returning to her master, once bare branches hung heavy with blooms in the most delicate shades of pink, the hues looking almost unnatural in the bright sunlight.

It was an absolutely gorgeous summer day, the sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky but I was freezing. Not physical, of course, not at all. My skin was still warm from the brief walk across the parking lot, though my now are feet, sandals discarded as soon as I had entered the truck, were just this side of cold as they rested on the dash, the artificially chilled air pumping from the vents going quite a ways to cooling both of us down.

I stared out the window, the meeting in the tiny room running through my mind on repeat. I'd long ago given up any hope that I would see Claire again, and had made peace with that fact. She was, for the most part, nothing but a memory. She didn't even recognize me, though that was not a surprise as she had been gone for over half of my life.

I was so caught up in my thoughts, in the racing, endless cycle of images that played across my mind that I didn't even notice that the truck had stopped and been turned off until Sam rested his hand on my bare shoulder, pulling me out of my reverie with a gentle touch, his thumb just brushing over my skin.

"You okay McNally?" His voice was low, the concern evident behind the simple words.

"I'm fine." I nodded just slightly and gave him what I was sure was a very fake smile, knowing immediately that he wouldn't believe me. Leaning down, I gathered both my discarded sandals and purse before opening the door and hopping out of the truck. The asphalt was hot under my bare feet, but not painfully so, just enough to ground me as it were. I danced across the drive and hopped up the steps, waiting nervously for Sam to follow.

He did, in just a moment, and quickly punched in the lock code, pushing the door open and ushering me inside with a small wave.

I entered the cool house, thankful for the central air and drawn blinds. My eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting and I set my sunglasses on the small hall table, dropping my shoes beside it.

Sam entered and quickly shut the door, bolting it behind him and setting the alarm code before turning towards me, catching my eyes. I fidgeted under his intense gaze but refused to drop my eyes as he watched me. Studying me, taking in my tics and obvious discomfort.

"You wanna talk about it?" The words were just this side of a whisper and I considered them for a moment. Did I want to talk about it? No, not even a little bit. Did I need to talk about it? Absolutely, more than anything else. But I couldn't, not now. Not yet. Steeling my spine, I tilter my chin up and shook my head just slightly.

"Nope." The word was barely out of my mouth before I moved, closing the distance between us with just a few strides. My hands rested on Sam's shoulders and I pushed him backwards against the wall, not hard but not exactly gently, before my arms twined around his neck and I met his lips in a heated kiss.


End file.
